


Mission

by TheBlackMagister



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU where everything isn't going to shit and the winchesters + cas have a house, Angel Wings, Angels Have Visible Wings, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Lucifer, Chuck is God, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, First Time, Good Lucifer, Human-ish Lucifer, I'm Sorry, Lucifer (Supernatural) Has Issues, Lucifer Redemption, Lucifer has a Forked Tongue, M/M, Michael is an Ass, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Near Death Experiences, Past Abuse, Past Gabriel/Lucifer (Supernatural), Past Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Past Lucifer/God, Past Miscarriage, Past Mpreg, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, Past Violence, Pseudo-Incest, Recovery, Rehabilitation, Sam Has Issues, Tags May Change, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Top Sam, Unrequited Gabriel/Sam Winchester, and also john winchester, b/c fuck you, b/c i have no self control, be prepared for my headcanons yall, by which I mean, he can't use his grace, hint: i know, i just........ rly love powerful chars on the bottom ok, it's there he's just not allowed to use it, lucifer finds a baby in himself, lucifer has a mild sort of ptsd, lucifer needs to learn what the hell a person is, pseudo bc angels arent actually related, whos is it? nobody knows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9891266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackMagister/pseuds/TheBlackMagister
Summary: Cas gets a mission from God.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sorry yall

Cas is on _something_ , Sam’s sure of it.

They’d just been settling in – paused to take a break from unpacking, getting ready to go to bed soon – and then Cas had just sort of, stopped, and glanced around, and then said something like “God is calling me” before walking out the door and disappearing, although without a single flap of his wings.

“Cryptic, that one,” Dean had muttered, with the usual note of affection his voice always had when he talked about Cas.

Right now, though, Sam is anything _but_ affectionate for Cas. He’d come home, looking only slightly worse for wear and carrying a thick chain, and when Dean had jokingly asked what kind of monster he’d dragged home he pulled in a very angry-looking, bound-and-muzzled Lucifer, back in the temporary vessel he’d taken.

“What the hell, Cas?” Dean is the first to break the silence, of course. “Where did you even-“

“God called to me,” Cas says solemnly, “He told me that we are to attempt to rehabilitate Lucifer.”

“Hell no.” Sam stands up from the table, moving away from them all. “We’re not housing him. Take him back to wherever the hell you found him and, I don’t care, throw him in hell or kill him or whatever. But we are _not_ keeping him.”

“We have to, Sam,” Cas says seriously, blue gaze falling on Sam. “We’re supposed to.”

“I dunno, Cas, I’m with Sam on this one.” Dean frowns a little, folding his arms. “I mean, keeping the Devil under our roof? What’s to say he won’t just smite us while we sleep and run off into the night?”

“He doesn’t seem to have the use of his grace.. whatever may be left.” For emphasis Cas nudges the Archangel, who makes a sort of growling noise but can’t speak thanks to the muzzle. “He’s harmless, as of now. Do you really believe I could’ve gotten him into this without being turned to dust if he was capable of murder?” When there’s no response, he adds, “We were given this task by God. He must think we are capable of this.”

The brothers are silent. Lucifer is eyeing them all mistrustfully, and if looks could kill they’d all be dead by now. Finally Sam lets out a long breath that’s half snarl and mutters “Just, keep him away from me.” as he goes downstairs. Cas sighs, meeting Dean’s gaze momentarily, and then he tugs Lucifer over to the couch, and even for Cas there’s an unmistakable veil of anger and disgust every time he looks at Lucifer. Lucifer sits, albeit a little reluctantly, and then glances around the room.

“So,” Dean says, frowning a little. “So, what you’re telling me is, right now Satan is pretty much a human with wings.”

“Yes.” Cas nods, glancing at Lucifer’s wings, bound by the chains around his torso.

“So does that mean he needs a watch or what?” Dean pulls over a chair from the table and sits backwards in it, arms folded. Cas frowns at Lucifer, who determinedly avoids both of their gazes.

“I.. don’t know. Perhaps for a few nights it might be helpful. I don’t think he will run, but it’s better to be safe.”

Dean processes it for a moment and then nods, running a hand down his face. “I’ll take it tonight. I won’t sleep anyway,” He says, noticing the beginning of Cas’s protest. “Not while I don’t know what he’s up to. You still need to sleep, anyway.”

Cas hesitates, biting his lip, and then reluctantly nods. “If you think so. I trust you. Just.. he may not have his power, but he’s still a formidable fighter. Don’t try to take him on your own, okay?”

Dean just waves a hand. “I know, I know. Don’t fight the Devil. We did this last time he was here. Don’t worry about it.”

Cas smiles tiredly, handing the chain over to Dean and stealing a kiss. Dean returns the smile, soft and affectionate.

“Go get some sleep, tiger. If there’s a problem I’ll come and get you.”

“Alright.” Cas moves over to the staircase, glancing back once before following Sam down. Finally Dean looks back at Lucifer. The vessel looks in pretty good condition – Nick, Dean thinks? – for having been dead for a couple of years. Finally Dean stands up and approaches Lucifer, who looks up at him defiantly, icy blue eyes flashing with anger, danger. The power of having Satan as his bitch almost gets to Dean’s head, but he shakes off the feeling and removes the muzzle. Lucifer’s jaw clenches, daring Dean to do any more.

“Alright, dude. You hungry or something?”

Lucifer is silent, but he looks away from Dean, who shrugs. Guess not. Dean moves into the kitchen and tries to make sure he keeps his watch on Lucifer, who’s staring holes into the wall. This is completely new – every time before Dean’s seen him he’s been cool, suave, and even tetchy he’d been shouting at worst. This silent anger, seething rage barely held on, is almost scarier. Still, Cas had said he was – probably – harmless, so Dean makes a sandwich and keeps one eye on him and upon returning he’s still sitting stiff and silent.

“Seriously? Nothing?” Dean huffs, sitting back down in his chair and beginning to eat. “Listen, dude, I know you’re pissed, but you’re pretty much human now. You’re gonna have to eat and sleep and piss eventually.”

“Go to hell,” Lucifer mutters suddenly, and Dean can see him straining against the chains. Dean shrugs.

“Been there, done that. Not that impressive.”

“Let me go.” It’s a cold, clear demand, and Dean’s sure that previously when Lucifer had used that voice he’d gotten what he wanted. Not this time, though, considering how harmless he’s supposed to be.

“No can do, Satan. What, taking off the muzzle wasn’t good enough?”

“You can’t keep me contained forever. I _will_ kill you, you and your brother and your precious little broken angel.”

“Mhm, well,” Dean pops the last of the sandwich in his mouth, “Let me know how that goes when you figure it out. If you can break the chain with only that body’s strength, well, then go for it.”

Lucifer lets out a long breath, and Dean can see him trying to rein in the anger. It’s fun, poking at Lucifer when he’s helpless. It feels good.

“At least loosen the thing. At this rate you’ll cut off my wings with it.”

Dean stands, sauntering over to Lucifer, who glares up at him. He can see it, though – the feathers under the chain are fraying, and it sure does look uncomfortable. Slowly Dean reaches for him, adjusts the chain so that Lucifer can flex the shiny, almost glowing white wings. A couple of feathers flutter down, which Lucifer watches with disdain. Dean bends down and picks one up. It _is_ glowing, vaguely, and it’s incredibly soft and downy.

“So now what?” Lucifer glances from the feather in Dean’s hand to Dean’s face. “Torture me to convert me to your.. whatever it is you do? Try and kill me? I assure you it’d be much easier now that Dad has banned me from my grace..”

“Of course not. We’re supposed to.. fix you. I guess. That’s what Cas said, anyway.”

“Fix me,” Lucifer repeats with a snort. “I’m fine. I don’t need fixing.”

“Yeah, of course. Murderous and psychopathic, just because you’re mad Daddy likes the new kid better.”

“Humans are awful,” Lucifer snaps back. “Look at you. Killing each other in droves, and for what? It serves no purpose! I don’t understand! You’re allowed to kill each other, in the name of our Father, but when any non-human does it suddenly it’s worthy of being damned to that awful Cage?! You should have just let me wipe you out from the beginning!”

Dean watches the outburst. Lucifer’s clearly fucked up, and Dean can’t figure out how in the hell they’re supposed to fix this guy. Lucifer won’t look at him, staring away across the room and breathing hard, wings flexing angrily. Finally Dean shrugs.

“Feel better, champ?”

“Leave me alone.”

“And betray my promise to Cas? I don’t think so, bud.”

“I don’t need – I don’t _want_ – your help, Winchester. So you’d be better sending me back to where you got me.”

“Well,” Dean says, sauntering back over to his chair and sitting. “Cas said God told him that we had to try. So I guess we’ll try.”

“Yes, of course. God would definitely care about my state of being now, hm? That’s what I’ve always hated about you humans, and the angels too, you mindlessly follow everything God says and half the time it’s not even in your best interests.”

“You’re just a kid who’s mad at his Dad.”

“Oh, but you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, _Dean_?” Lucifer leans forward, teeth bared, anger radiating off of him. “An absent, awful dad, just being so angry you could _kill_ over it, you know I’m right Dean-”

“O-kay, I think that’s enough.” Dean picks up the muzzle, carefully turning it in his hands, and Lucifer goes quiet again, watching warily. “Not a big talker now, hm?”

Lucifer just flexes his wings again, still eyeing the muzzle in Dean’s hands. Dean puts it back down, watching Lucifer, and this time Lucifer doesn’t speak back up. Pleased, Dean grabs the remote from the table next to the couch and flips on the TV. Nothing’s on at this time of night – never is – but it’s something. There’s news, and porn, and infomercials and rather than show Satan porn he decides infomercials are good. Lucifer sighs, dragging his legs up onto the couch and leaning back against the arm away from Dean. He’s still chained so it’s apparent the movement isn’t easy, but aside from his big words he doesn’t seem particularly murderous. Just pissed off.

“You’re human now,” Dean points out, frowning at Lucifer. “Or, y’know, somewhat human. Whatever you are right now. So you need to sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Lucifer says for the second and probably not last time.

“Okay. You won’t eat, you won’t sleep – is there anything you will do?”

Lucifer shrugs, turning his attention to the god-awful show on TV. Dean lets out a long sigh, examining the archangel. He looks uncomfortable, and there’s blood on his shirt that could have come from anywhere. The body was a nice choice – _not_ Sam, for one, attractive for two. Short but manageably spiky blond hair, a light scruff, chilling blue eyes, and a smile that could convince nuns to fuck. Not to mention he looks soft as fuck.

“If I undo those chains,” Dean says abruptly. “Will you run for it?”

Lucifer gazes at him, and he looks almost.. smug. Dick. “Probably not. At least not tonight. I am.. drained. Castiel saw to that.”

Dean stands up, moving around the chair and coming to stand in front of Lucifer. The Archangel gives him a smile, tiny but there, and Dean’s tempted to think it’s genuine. Finally Dean pops the lock and unwinds the chain, and once it drops Lucifer stretches everything. He gives an experimental snap, but when nothing happens he sighs in disappointment. He lays back out on the couch, giving Dean a “well?” sort of look, with maybe a hint of temptation. Dean sits back down, watching Lucifer.

“I’m not going to kill you in your sleep,” Lucifer says casually. “..probably.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean huffs. “Listen. You gotta sleep or you’re gonna crash tomorrow and be very unhappy.”

“I’m already unhappy just being here, or was that not obvious?”

“Unhappi _er_. And in any case, a very unhappy you is a very unhappy us, and I’m not putting up with that bull tomorrow. Got it?”

Lucifer stares at him, but Dean holds eye contact, and eventually Lucifer sighs. “Yes, fine. I’ll attempt to sleep, I suppose.”

Lucifer slides down on the couch, curling up with his back to the room and his wing tucked over himself. Even now Cas has such a hard time falling asleep that Dean figures Lucifer will probably be the same way; but no, in a few minutes the angel’s body posture relaxes and his breathing steadies. Dean watches him for a moment – wondering if it’s a ruse, fake. Then Lucifer turns over onto his back, and suddenly Dean gets where calling somebody an “angelic sleeper” comes from. He may be arrogant, and an ass, and violent and awful, but he looks peaceful for once, relaxed and content. Dean stands and approaches the hall closet, glancing back once or twice, but Lucifer is definitely asleep. He grabs one of the spare blankets and a pillow-cat Sam had gotten at a fair when they were small. Carefully – seriously trying not to get his arms ripped off – Dean lays the blanket over the Archangel and slowly maneuvers the pillow under his head. Thank fuck Dean’s used to doing it without waking his target up – thanks Sam.

“Goodnight, Satan,” Dean mumbles. “Sweet dreams.. or whatever you have.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sam is the first to come up in the morning. Lucifer is still asleep, stretched out on his stomach, and Dean’s head is on his arms on the back of the chair. Sam tiptoes over to Dean, trying not to wake the Archangel – or, whatever he is right now – and shakes Dean lightly. Dean sits up at once, snapping to attention until he realizes it’s just Sam. He sighs and yawns and rubs at his eyes, blinking the sleep away.

“Hey,” Sam says, with a long breath, glancing at Lucifer momentarily. “We need to talk. Library.”

“Yeah, uh,” Dean stretches out, stifling a groan. “Gimmie a sec..”

Sam heads for the door; after a moment Dean rises and follows suit, glancing back once at Lucifer’s frame. Still knocked the fuck out, at least momentarily.

“Do you think we should wake him up?” Dean mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets. Sam glances back, prepared to respond, but before he can say anything,

“I wouldn’t.” Cas has just come upstairs and beelined for them, taking a glance at his.. whatever the fuck angels are. “Some people get upset when you wake them. Lucifer might just try and start the apocalypse again, powers or no.”

Sam just makes a noncommittal sort of noise, unlocking the door to the library and stepping in. Cas leaves the door open so they can keep an eye on Lucifer. Finally Sam breaks the silence.

“Is this seriously a good idea?” He frowns a little, leaning forward. “I mean.. Lucifer. Here. With us. Isn’t he a little bit, you know, exactly what we’ve been killing for ten years?”

“He hasn’t seemed very dangerous,” Dean points out. “I took off those chains and he just curled up and went to sleep. So.”

“What exactly do you know about this mission thing?” The question is directed to Cas specifically this time, who frowns pensively.

“Well.. God came to me, and took me to where Lucifer had resurfaced. He said that Lucifer could be fixed if we showed him kindness, and.. that was it.”

“I dunno, Cas. I think God may’ve been wrong about this one. Lucifer isn’t going to work with us – he made it pretty clear he doesn’t want our help.”

Cas just shrugs. “I’ve told you all I know. If God thinks so then there must be something we can do to get to him.”

“I just,” Sam pauses, running his hands through his hair, and Dean can tell his little brother didn’t get much sleep. “I just don’t. Feel comfortable with him running around here.”

“I know, Sam, I’m sorry. But there is no other way.”

Just then there’s a stirring from the living room, and Lucifer sits up. He’s got that sort of moving that usually happens to people who’ve just woken up – slow and groggy. After a moment Lucifer stretches, wings flaring out briefly, before he stands and folds them against his back. He wanders over in their direction, although it’s obvious he’s not completely awake yet. He comes to the doorway, leans on the frame and rubs at his eyes with his fists.

“Well good morning, sunshine,” Dean says, only half-sarcastically, and Lucifer frowns at him.

“Is it only morning? Feels like I was out longer than that.”

The statement is broken by a yawn, which Lucifer muffles with a fist. He looks dead exhausted still, although he’s starting to be more alert. He glances between the three – Cas is examining him, frowning a little, Dean is indifferent to his presence, and Sam.. Sam is unbelievably pissed off. He probably would have left already, had Lucifer not been standing in the only exit. Lucifer tilts his head a little.

“So what’s your plan?” Lucifer folds his arms. “To.. what did you say.. fix me.”

“We don’t know yet,” Dean says, shrugging. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“Even though there’s nothing to fix?” Lucifer quirks an eyebrow. “I’m not broken and I think we all know that.”

“Aside from your grace being unusable for the time being?” Cas points out, hiding the feeling of victory that rises at Lucifer’s wince.

“Yes, well.. that is rather unfortunate, I suppose.. But you know as well as I, Castiel, there is nothing you can do to fix that.”

“Except it makes you reliant on us.” Dean smirks a little at the pained expression that flits across Lucifer’s face. “We have the power over you now, and that’s what really bites you, isn’t it?”

“I think now is a good time to shut your mouth,” Lucifer says softly, eyes cold and body stiff. “You shouldn’t speak of things you know nothing about.. such as how I feel.”

Dean opens his mouth to retort, but Cas lays a hand on his arm and he quiets. Lucifer lets out a long breath, but before he can say anything else his stomach growls and he grimaces. Dean grins.

“So. Who wants breakfast, cause I do.”

Lucifer huffs a little, shoving his hands in his pockets without saying anything. Nobody else does either, and finally Dean throws up his hands and says, “Okay, I’ll decide. McDonald’s it is. Anybody want to go?”

Sam stands at once and brushes past Lucifer, careful not to touch him. Lucifer watches him, half-amused. Dean stands as well, glancing at Cas, who’s still examining Lucifer.

“You gonna stay?” Dean checks; Cas nods wordlessly. Dean frowns, a little unnerved by his silence, but Sam’s waiting so he grabs his jacket and follows his younger brother out. After a moment the front door shuts, leaving the angels alone. Lucifer shrugs at Cas and saunters back to the couch, letting himself flop down onto it. It’s oddly soft – something Lucifer hasn’t felt in a very long time. Cas follows more slowly – he’s still frowning, but he sits and looks attentively at Lucifer.

“You’ve been hurt.”

Lucifer makes a face, turning to Cas with brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“In the Cage. You’re different. You’ve been hurt.”

“I think you must be confused-“

“Was it Michael?”

Lucifer stiffens, blue eyes flashing with alarm, but Cas holds fast.

“You weren’t there. That’s not your business,” The Archangel hisses. “Keep to yourself.”

“There’s more to fix than you’re letting on. You’re going to need to talk about it sooner or later.”

“No. It’s nobody’s business what the Cage is like, unless you were there. Which _you_ weren’t.” He narrows his eyes. “So keep. Your mouth. _Shut_.”

Cas drops the subject, but it’s clear he’s gotten under Lucifer’s skin. The older angel shifts uncomfortably, wrapping his wings delicately around himself and folding his arms. He seems unfocused and more distant than ever; Cas can feel the turmoil in him.

When the door opens Lucifer half jumps up and moves to meet them. Cas watches him go. There’s definitely something wrong with him – Cas can feel his grace, locked away, is scarred. He still seems unnerved, shaken, because there’s a very slight tremor in his hands that Cas recognizes from way back when, before he was slammed in the Cage – the first time.

They’ve gotten hashbrowns for Lucifer, who frowns a little as he sits on the counter. He bites off a little bit while Dean hands Cas his; after which he coughs and makes a face, licking his lips repeatedly. Dean glances at him, amused.

“Is there a problem, princess?”

Lucifer glares. “Be glad I can’t yet kill you. This food, it’s.. very dry, isn’t it?”

“Did you not have salt up in Heaven?”

“Salt,” Lucifer repeats. “Like.. the stuff in the ground?”

“Well, sort of. But, y’know, cleaned up and shit. To be fit for consumption.”

“It’s very..” Lucifer pauses, another little cough taking him for a moment. “Um. Salty.”

Dean grins. “That happens with fast food. ‘S why you can’t eat too much or you’ll get fat and sick.”

“And you humans, you.. eat this on a regular schedule?”

“Yeah.” Dean shrugs. “It’s damn good. Maybe you should get something to drink. Soda. Do we actually have soda?” He adds to anybody who’ll answer. Cas takes the opportunity to check the fridge; there’s a six-pack of root beer, and a six-pack of Mountain Dew. Cas takes one of both and tosses the root beer to Lucifer, who catches it with ease and frowns at it.

“We’re not trying to poison you, Romeo,” Dean remarks casually, sitting down in his chair at the kitchen table. Sam refuses to sit, Lucifer notices; instead choosing to stand in the doorway furthest from him. Finally Lucifer pops the tab and takes a sip, immediately cringing a little from it.

“I, I think not,” He mumbles, setting the can to the side. “Maybe not.”

He doesn’t say much more after that; rather, he watches the conversation between Dean and Castiel, which Sam eventually joins, and to his surprise a strike of mixed jealousy and grief stabs at his heart. He shakes his head a little to get rid of the feeling, leaning back against the wall. Oh, to have family again - it must be so nice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM ON A ROLL MOTHERUFUCKINGFUCKERS LMFOA  
> i am almost sorry

After breakfast Lucifer makes himself a spot in the library to read. Cas pulls Sam to the side, glancing at Lucifer – he’s curled up in a chair with an old book of fairy tales, immersed in the stories. Sam frowns at the angel.

“What?”

“I need you to talk to Lucifer.”

Sam blanches for a moment, then – when he figures Cas is serious – he makes a hilarious sort of expression/noise between horror and anger.

“ _What_?! No!”

“Sam, you have to. There’s something wrong with him, and that’s the key to fixing him, I know it.”

“Why can’t you talk to him? Or Dean? I _can’t_ talk to him, Cas. You know that.”

“He won’t talk to me or Dean because we.. weren’t with him in the Cage. You’re the only one. Besides.. he likes you, Sam. One way or another. He _will_ talk to you.”

“No.” Sam shrugs, shaking his head. “I can’t. There’s gotta be another way.”

“There is no other way.” Cas rests a hand on Sam’s forearm, frowning. “I know what he did. And I know you won’t, can’t, forgive him. But a ten minute conversation to find out what happened to him and then Dean and I can take over trying to repair the damage. That’s all I’m asking, Sam. Please.”

Sam hesitates, finally, biting his lip and watching Cas’s face. Then he looks over at Lucifer, who’s so absorbed in the stories he hasn’t noticed anything. He looks innocent, for once, mostly because he doesn’t have anybody to antagonize.

“Fine. But you might wanna be on standby in case I go for murder.”

Cas nods, and reluctantly Sam enters the library. Lucifer’s eyes flick to him momentarily, go back to the book, and then he lifts his head to look at Sam. He frowns a little.

“Sam,” He greets. “I didn’t think you’d ever come.”

“You’re lucky I did.”

Lucifer quirks an eyebrow, and Sam sighs and drags a chair over to sit. Lucifer carefully bookmarks his place and sets the book to the side, folding his hands in his lap.

“Listen, I’m just gonna get to the point: I don’t like you. I probably never will. But.. maybe – maybe, mind you – we can settle some things.”

“You’re still mad,” Lucifer guesses, head tilting. “Not that I blame you, Sammy. After all, the Cage was unpleasant. I’m guessing that’s what you mean..”

Sam inhales deeply. “Yeah. The Cage. I.. wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Everything I did to you, had happened to me first.” Lucifer’s voice is soft, almost cold. “You were my vent, Sam. I could tell you who to blame, but.. I don’t think it would do any good now.”

“Michael.” Sam says, and Lucifer pauses, muscles stiffening.

“Did Castiel tell you of my... aversion?”

“No. He was the only other thing in the Cage with us. I’m not stupid.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Lucifer frowns. “Bringing up my ass of a brother..”

“Talk to me, Lucifer. I’m trying to understand but you are _not_ making this easy on me.”

Lucifer sighs and rubs his eyes. “Yes, it was Michael,” He mutters reluctantly. “I don’t know how much of him you remember.. he stayed away from you, I think. Be grateful. I kept him distracted from you. His treatment would have been worse.”

“You said the way you treated me was directly from the way you were treated.”

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

Lucifer inhales, sounding much shakier now. “Where are you going with this, Sam? This better have a point and you aren’t just making me remember for no reason.”

“While we were in the Cage Michael raped you, didn’t he.”

It’s not a question. Lucifer stares at Sam for a long moment, gripping the arms of the chair hard enough to turn his knuckles white. He doesn’t answer right away; various memories of Michael, snapshots and voices run through his head, each worse than the last - followed by Michael’s decline after Sam's departure.

“Lucifer.”

Lucifer pauses where he is, staring past the books in front of him. After a moment he lets his hands fall from where he’d been pressing against the palm of his hand – the same way, Sam notices, that Sam used to when he got hallucinations – and actually looks at Sam, and there’s so much grief and pain that he almost seems human.

“Yes,” He says eventually. “Michael.. mistreated me in the Cage. Before that, too, but by the time we got stuck there he’d learned plenty of new tricks to keep us busy for a very long while.”

It’s weird, seeing Lucifer shaken up. He’s always so calm and collected – and yet just the mention of Michael seems to ruin him. After a moment Sam eases a little.

“Do you.. want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not,” Lucifer murmurs softly. “I don’t like thinking about my family, much.”

“Do you at least feel sorry? For what you did?” Sam leans forward, frowning, and Lucifer pauses to think.

“I.. I know you want me to say yes. But I can’t. If I hadn’t done what I did I.. I wouldn’t have kept it together, and everything would be much worse now.”

Sam snorts in disbelief and stands up abruptly. He’s leaving. After a pause to think Lucifer calls after his back, “Extenuating circumstances notwithstanding, Sam, yes, I feel sorry for the way I treated you.”

Sam stops where he is, and Lucifer can feel him hesitating. Then he leaves the library without answering. Lucifer exhales slowly, closing his eyes and rubbing at his temples. There’s an annoying sort of throbbing, ringing in his skull and jeez, what is _wrong_ with humans. Finally he picks back up the book; but when he begins to read again it’s incredibly hard to focus.

“I did it,” Sam mumbles to Cas, pulling the door closed a little. “We.. talked.”

“Did you find out what’s happened?”

“Er. Well. Sort of. But I think Dean should be in on this, too.”

Cas nods and follows Sam to the living room. It’s still a little surreal, having a house and a living room like they're normal people. Dean looks up from the couch, his feet propped up on the table.

“Yo.”

“Cas convinced me to talk to Lucifer,” Sam says, without any of his usual cheer or greeting. Dean frowns, dropping his feet and sitting forward.

“What?”

“There’s something wrong with him,” Cas explains. “Sam is the only one he’s willing to speak to about it.”

“He sort of mentioned you, Cas.. something to do with Michael. I’m guessing you must’ve guessed at it already.”

“Yes, I.. thought so. I was still small when Lucifer was banished but I do remember the pair of them – always together, hardly ever apart, except when Lucifer was with Gabriel. But he never had the cheer he had around Gabriel when he was with Michael – it was always subdued, scared even.”

“Well, as it turns out Michael is pretty much the cause of all his fucked-up-ness.” Sam exhales, flopping onto the couch next to Dean and stealing his brother’s beer. “He said Michael mistreated him. What he meant was, Michael had literally no bounds and.. er.. how to put it gracefully.. uh, sexually abused him. If you will.”

Cas’s eyebrows raise in surprise, wings unfurling, and as with every time he uncurls them Sam’s eyes are drawn to where his flight feathers should be, but aren’t.

“I always felt.. darkness in Michael. But he always seemed so good – good to a fault, even.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not the picture Lucifer painted. I know he lies – a lot – but he seemed serious as a heart attack this time.”

“So God was right.” Dean frowns at Cas, taking his beer back from Sam and sipping out of it. “You said He said that Lucifer could be fixed with kindness, right? So we’re in charge of fixing all this mental trauma. Although I still don’t understand how we fix his Daddy Issues.”

“I suppose once we deal with this we may get more instructions. For the time being, I think we should give Lucifer some space, unless he requests otherwise. He may not be incredibly happy with our presence just yet.”

“I don’t know how long I can take him being here,” Sam groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I dunno, I'm getting used to it, but..”

“I know, Sam. I truly am sorry,” Cas sighs, sitting down on Sam’s other side. “But this is important, I know it.”

“Yeah, I believe you. I just wish there was another way.”

Then the creak of the library door alerts them to Lucifer’s movements; there’s a soft shuffle of socked feet and then Lucifer peers around the corner, chewing his lower lip nervously.

“Castiel. Could I speak with you?” And then, hesitating, he adds, “Privately?”

Sam and Dean glance at each other, but Cas shakes his head at them as he stands. “I’ll be alright. We have to trust him, you know that. At least give him a chance.”

Lucifer retreats, and Cas follows him back to the library. He’s sitting in his chair, absently pressing his palm again, until Cas sits in the chair next to him.

“You wanted to talk?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this one is so short :< its just. this chapter is necessary but also i didnt want to lol

“You’re the only one who might have an idea, or maybe some advice, on.. this issue.” Lucifer breathes in deep, biting his lip, thinking over his words carefully. “I know – I’ve heard – that you’ve had many different experiences with grace and various things dealing with it, I was hoping you might know what.. you might, uh, be able to help me out here..”

“With what, exactly?” Cas frowns. “I can’t say if I can help until I know what the problem is.”

“Well,” Lucifer pauses. “It’s just.. I know I still have my grace. I can feel it. Dad locked it away so I can’t use it, and I guess I understand. I can’t be trusted not to go on a killing spree, huh?” And if Cas didn’t know better he’d say Lucifer sounded bitter about it. “Anyway.. it’s not that. See, I’ve had some, uh, things happen, and it’s.. pretty badly damaged. I mean at least it feels like it.”

“How badly is it damaged - and in what way?” Cas leans forward a little when Lucifer stalls, biting his lower lip. “If you want, I could probably take a look at it. I don’t even have to touch it, if you don’t want me to.”

Lucifer hesitates and sighs reluctantly. “Only if you just _look_. Don’t do any poking at it.”

“I can do that. Now – if you could give me your hand.”

Lucifer extends his hand gingerly, and Cas takes it and closes his eyes. After a brief pause Lucifer inhales sharply; he can feel Cas’s presence near to his grace. It takes all of his will not to push Cas out. The last time somebody started messing with his grace, it didn’t go so well.

“Oh, there’s the problem,” Cas murmurs. “I can definitely see the scarring. Does it hurt?”

“Only if I try to do anything with it – but I can’t tell if that’s because it’s broken or because of Dad’s spell or whatever it is he’s done.”

“It’s probably because of the scars not healing the way they should have. Possibly they weren’t allowed to heal? Since most grace-suppressors don’t cause pain, and I really can’t imagine God would want to hurt _you_ , of all.”

“You might be surprised,” Lucifer mumbles, and this time there’s a definite bitter edge to his voice; and when he continues there’s a slight snippiness in his tone. “So, what do you think? Is there anything you know of to fix it?”

“Well,” Cas says, pulling away from Lucifer’s grace, and Lucifer lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I’m not sure there’s much to do. I do know of a grace healer – a certain sort of potion of sorts, I suppose – but it doesn’t typically work on healed-over scars. We’d have to damage those spots again and I’m sure you don’t want that. Without being able to feel the scar tissue there’s not much I can do to help.”

Lucifer nods, although he doesn’t seem too overly disappointed. “Let’s not. Although I thought as much. I was just.. hoping. Well. It’s not that important – it isn’t like I can use it right now anyway.”

“If, maybe,” Cas begins tentatively after a moment. “If you were willing to tell me what had caused the injuries I could ask some angels that I’ve been in contact with..?”

“No.” Lucifer says, which is answer enough. Cas just nods and gets up from his seat. Lucifer’s staring blankly at the book he’d left open, but he looks up as Cas moves away.

“Castiel,” He calls, and Cas turns back to look at him. “If you could, er.. tell Sam I am truly sorry. I don’t think he believed me earlier.”

Cas looks surprised but he nods again before he leaves. Reluctantly Lucifer picks up his book; he gives his grace an experimental nudge, attempting to move it, but the pain of trying makes him wince, and he can see what Cas means: now that he’s aware he can feel the scars pulling when he moves it.

“So how did _that_ go?” Dean asks, once Cas is sitting with them once more. Cas frowns a little and shrugs, folding his arms thoughtfully.

“He was simply asking for.. angel advice, I suppose. Nothing to worry about.” Cas shakes his head, then glances at Sam. “Also, Sam, he asked me to tell you he’s sorry. He said he wasn’t sure you believed him before.”

“Yeah,” Sam sighs. “I know.”

“It’s weird,” Dean remarks after a moment. “Is it just me, or.. does it seem like there be been less and less attacks here lately?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, frowning. “I’ve noticed that too. You don’t think God..?”

“Maybe. I mean, if he brought Lucifer back up, maybe he stuck around for a bit. Cas, what do you think?”

“It’s possible. I thought maybe He had raised Lucifer because Lucifer was his favorite, but perhaps he’s finally putting in a helping hand. It’s not that unrealistic.”

“I think, maybe we shouldn’t tell Lucifer God might be around,” Sam says after a pause, glancing between them. “I mean, he’s not exactly God’s biggest fan, you know? Lucifer might go after Him. And even though he’s technically still an angel, he doesn’t have any of those powers - he’d die out there on his own. He’d forget to eat or something.”

Dean snorts a little at the mental image – Lucifer, going out, forgetting to eat. Then he sighs, rubbing at his face. There’s no question about keeping God’s presence a secret from the (ex?)Archangel.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean mutters. “It probably wouldn’t be safe to turn Lucifer out into the world like this. And not just for him – for the entire damn world.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just rly need domestic angels

Lucifer comes back out about noon, leaning casually in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. Dean’s gone out for grocery shopping with Sam – probably the younger Winchester had been unwilling to spend time with him, Lucifer had heard their muted 1-minute argument. Cas looks away from the TV to glance briefly at Lucifer, then nods quietly to the seat beside him and turns his attention back to whatever the hell it is he’s watching. Lucifer hesitates – he’s not good at interaction, never has been. Regardless he eventually takes his place next to Cas, sitting the way Michael had seared into his brain: legs under him,  hands folded politely in his lap, wings tucked away against his back. He spares a glance at the TV and then double-takes.

It’s.. a child’s animation, Lucifer can only guess. Cas is only halfway paying attention to it, anyway; he’s obviously listening out for Dean’s return. Brightly colored characters bounce across the screen; they’re singing something or other, and something about the show does help boost Lucifer’s mood a little bit. Absently he pulls one wing around, carefully reparting and sorting his feathers out, an unshakable habit for when he’s uncomfortable.

“Lucifer,” Cas says softly, and Lucifer turns his head, looking almost comically like a deer in the headlights. “You don’t have to be afraid to be weak around them, you know.”

“Excuse me?” Lucifer frowns, beginning to fluff up a little.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time.” Cas keeps eye contact, face serious. “Sam and Dean aren’t going to hurt you. You can let your guard down here.”

Lucifer straightens a little, jaw tightening involuntarily. He rolls his shoulders, avoiding Cas’s gaze. “I know,” He says finally. There’s something in his tone, though – he’s unwilling to admit weakness. Cas can’t blame him at all. Heaven’s tough on weakness as it is; and Lucifer had been raised for war, where any sign of being weak could and would result in death.

Cas rests one hand on his shoulder, careful not to push Lucifer’s bounds. Lucifer sort of reacts like he might flinch; then he eases into Cas’s touch, letting his muscles relax. Cas carefully slides the Archangel over, into his lap – well, sort of, more like just in between his thighs – murmuring soothingly in Enochian when Lucifer tenses up warily. When Lucifer finally relaxes again Cas returns his hands to the Archangel’s shoulders, pressing the heels into Lucifer’s shoulderblades. He starts to work his hands against Lucifer’s muscles; he can feel the tightness in them, all the pent-up stress.

“Whatcha doin’?” Lucifer murmurs, leaning his elbows on his thighs, entranced by the show on TV. Cas hums softly.

“A massage. The humans thought this up, you know.”

“Hm,” Lucifer responds, real intelligent-like. “What’s the point..?”

“It’s supposed to relax your muscles and make you.. what did Dean say.. _loose_.”

“Hm,” Lucifer says again, as Cas moves down to his back, beneath his wings. It _is_ quite soothing, he supposes; he’s relaxing without meaning to, practically melting in Cas’s hands. After a few moments Cas lightly begins to rub circles into the ends of Lucifer’s wings. The older angel inhales deeply, all instincts saying to lash out. However, he makes himself accept it, and instead leans against Cas’s touch. A rusty sort of purr builds up in his throat, a sound he clearly hasn’t made in eons, and Cas grins to himself in victory.

* * *

When Sam and Dean return the two of them are sprawled out on the couch, Lucifer curled up against Cas’s side, still purring contentedly as Cas strokes his feathertips. Dean leaves Sam to put away the groceries, more interested in the cat-like angel cuddled with his boyfriend; he kisses Cas quickly, watching Lucifer’s slow, sleepy movements.

“Dean,” Lucifer mumbles, gazing up at the hunter through glazed ice-blue eyes momentarily before he grins lazily and drops his head back to Cas’s chest. Dean raises his eyebrows at Cas, who shrugs a little.

“You may know some of the secrets of an angel’s wings, but you have a lot to learn.” The angel remarks casually. “Give me a moment.”

Dean nods, retreating to the kitchen with Sam. Cas debates for a second on how to detach Lucifer without upsetting him; then he decides to just shed his coat, and he eases himself off the couch. Like he’d expected, Lucifer curls up with the jacket and almost at once is out like a light. Cas sighs and resists the urge to roll his eyes, following after Dean, who is exchanging a friendly banter with Sam. Or, well – as friendly as the two brothers get. The usual sort of thing. He hops up onto one of the bar stools, taking a moment to admire Dean, at least until Dean turns and catches his stare and then smirks at him, waggling his eyebrows. This time Cas can’t help rolling his eyes and he turns away to hide his grin.

“Okay, lovebirds,” Sam interrupts, chuckling. “That’s enough eyefucking, get a room. So – Cas – how the hell did you manage to put out Satan so easy?”

“It’s actually quite simple. See, certain parts of an angel’s wings are connected to certain parts of the mind. If you have the right action and the right part of the wing you can get a response. Dean knows of a few, near the base where it’s most sensitive – but a circular motion on the outside of the wings, on the edges, brings rest. Oh - and for another example, stroking downward with two fingers on the inner middle induces hunger. Of course, most angels get upset if you try to touch their wings. I was actually surprised Lucifer let me touch his, given the trauma he seems to have been through.”

Sam nods, frowning thoughtfully. He hands both Cas and Dean beers and settles on the stool next to Cas. “And the purring thing? I didn’t know angels purred.”

“Some do, some don’t.” Cas shrugs, popping the cap off. “Lucifer happens to. It’s rare, certainly – usually only when they feel completely safe, which, when you’re an angel, isn’t often.”

Sam seems to be drinking in the information like a sponge, eyes bright with interest. However Dean apparently has other plans; he comes up behind Cas and (gently) grabs the base of Cas’s dark wings. Cas jolts, making a completely undignified squeaking sound, and sits tensely in Dean’s grip until Dean nudges him up and says “Come on, Cassie. We’ll be out – later – Sam.”

“Oh, thanks,” Sam answers sarcastically, as Dean half-drags Cas out of the room by his wings. “I’ll just drink your beers for you.”

“Thanks” is Dean’s shouted reply before the bedroom door slams somewhere, and Sam sighs affectionately. He’s gotta thank God – Chuck? – that Cas is a dude, because by now they’d probably be overrun with small children if he wasn’t. Regardless Sam kicks his feet up into Cas’s vacated stool and downs the rest of the bottle with ease. Jeez - he's getting too good at that. Maybe he should cut back on how much he hangs out with Dean.

Then a movement near the kitchen door catches his attention. Lucifer’s standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes sleepily with his fists and looking more like six than.. however old he actually is. He’s shed his shirt-jacket-thing, leaving just the green t-shirt and his jeans. He looks a little uncomfortable at Sam’s presence, actually – not out of dislike, more wariness than anything else. The look in his eyes is carefully guarded calmness as he blinks away the sleep and examines Sam.

“Do you mind if I sit?” He asks finally. Sam hesitates, then drops his legs and shrugs.

“Knock yourself out.”

He shuffles over and pulls himself onto the stool, wings wrapped nervously around himself. He preens his feathers, sparing glances at Sam every now and again as Sam finishes off Dean’s beer, then Cas’s.

“You didn’t sleep for very long,” Sam points out eventually. Lucifer nods.

“I admit, I.. I still haven’t quite gotten the hang of sleeping. At least not all at once.”

Sam frowns. “Do you get nightmares?”

Lucifer takes a moment to adjust an out-of-place feather before he answers. “Sometimes. A.. a lot, actually. Mostly the Cage, seeing as how my time there makes up most of my memories, but some from.. elsewhere. Er.. pardon the personal question, Sam.. but do you.. get nightmares, from your time in the Cage?”

“Used to.” Sam shrugs. “It’s gotten better. I guess I just learned to cope with the memories so the nightmares went away after a while. Sometimes they still get bad but not very often anymore.”

“How did you get over it?” Lucifer looks at him – actually looks at him this time – and once again those blue eyes are so full of hurt that he almost seems human. “I mean, I know our experiences have been.. completely different.. but maybe if I had somewhere to start..”

“I just.. came to terms with it, I guess. It got drowned out by other bad stuff and I couldn’t afford to get hung up on it, and it just went away. I wish I knew of an actual remedy for it.”

Lucifer nods, staying quiet and returning to caring for his wings again. There’s not much to do anymore, he’s fixed every stray feather and wiped everything down at least three times, but if he doesn’t work on something he’s going to lose his mind. Finally Sam sighs, sliding off his stool to throw away the beer bottles. Then he approaches Lucifer, sliding both arms around the Archangel. For a moment Lucifer is frozen; and then he leans into Sam’s chest, excessively warm with even the few drinks, and winds his fingers into the plaid shirt. Sam runs his fingers through Lucifer’s blond hair, drinking in the experience, because for once Lucifer isn’t trying to murder him – instead the angel seems to be clinging to reality that has taken Sam’s form.

“We’re gonna take care of you here,” Sam promises, voice rough; Lucifer nods. “Nothing’s ever gonna hurt you again.”

“Promise?” Lucifer breathes, letting pure _Sam_ flood his senses until he’s drowning in it. Sam nuzzles against his hair, breath warm on his ear.

“Promise.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Well, short of seeing a therapist, nobody seems to have any clue on what to do next.”

Lucifer groans vaguely into Sam’s pillow, the cotton catching his breath and heating his cheeks. He and Sam had taken to the internet, trying to find some remedy to help, even if just for a little while, because Lucifer _can’t_ keep running on small bursts of rest. It doesn’t help, either, that they’re both a little tipsy – well, maybe more than a little. Sam had been drinking pretty much the whole time, and eventually Lucifer had joined him. Now there’s an annoying buzz in his ears and he’s so damn tired of being human. He rolls over, and damn does he look a mess.

“What would I even say to a therapist?” He grumbles, folding his arms behind his head. “‘Hi, my name is Satan and I have PTSD’? I don’t think that would go down very well.”

“They’d throw you in a mental hospital before you could explain,” Sam chuckles, downing the last drops of beer from.. whatever number that is. Lucifer can’t bring himself to care.

“So I’m fucked,” He says bluntly, examining the plain white ceiling of Sam’s room. “Figuratively, I mean. I’m not – er. Yeah.”

“I know what you mean, dumbass.” Sam gets up, stretching his arms above his head and groaning contentedly as his muscles pop. He walks around the bed and flops down next to Lucifer, letting out a long breath. Although he’s got this look on his face; Lucifer frowns, rolling over and propping himself up on one elbow. “What?”

“You’re thinking,” Lucifer says, a hint of accusation in his tone. “I know that face, you’re thinking about something.”

“It’s nothing.” Sam rolls his eyes, head turning. Lucifer’s frown deepens – the Archangel is practically pouting.

“Tell me,” Lucifer huffs, giving Sam a little shove. “That’s your, like – your, um – your really deep thinking face.”

“Nothing! It’s just,” Sam sighs, “In the beginning, one of the temporary fixes was – I would sleep with Dean. Not like that,” He adds in response to Lucifer’s raised eyebrows. “I mean, we’d share a bed. Something about him being there helped me sleep, at least for a little while.”

“Huh,” Lucifer says, rolling over onto his back. “Well, I’m not sure I’d want to sleep in the same bed as Dean.”

“I meant me.” It’s Sam’s turn to roll to his side, frowning at Lucifer. “I mean, it’s not like I’m seeing anybody. And it’s not, like, sexual or anything. Just a comfort thing, y’know?”

“Oh. I – oh.” Lucifer’s quickly turning a delicate shade of pink, which he rolls onto his other side to hide. Sam’s warmth presses against his back, the hunter’s arms wrapping around his waist lightly.

“Like this,” Sam murmurs gently against the back of his neck. “Not weird or anything. Just until we find a different solution.”

Lucifer hates that he’s blushing and he knows it’s the alcohol but goddamnit, Sam is so fucking close to him. He’s involuntarily tense in Sam’s grip, so tense he’s practically trembling, wings tucked against his back so tight they’re melding against the smooth length of his spine.

“Um,” He says, really fucking smart-like. He sort of wants Sam to let go – not because he doesn’t like it but because he was completely unprepared for this. Sam exhales against his throat, and Lucifer’s warm enough as it is and just the singular breath only proves to make his temperature skyrocket. He can’t fucking think straight, everything is extremely blurring together and makes no sense in any context. And then he realizes it’s not the alcohol blurring everything – he’s crying.

“Lucifer,” Sam breathes, and Lucifer rolls over and buries against Sam’s chest and cries. Sam’s arms around him are comfortingly tight – firm and grounding, and Sam’s saying soft little nothing promises against his temples to soothe him. He’s drunk and exhausted and emotional and fuck, he just wants everything to be normal for half a second. Sam’s rubbing his back – slow, easy circles that quickly move to his wings. Damnit Castiel. Still, the action is soothing regardless, and after a few moments Lucifer begins to relax. The crying dies down to soft little snuffles, although he’s clinging to Sam’s shirt like a lifeline, and then eventually Lucifer is gone – sleeping, although his cheeks are damp and he still looks a little upset. Sam wipes the tears away, runs a hand through his blond hair and watches for a while. It’s a gorgeous vessel, Sam’s got to give him that. Sam’s experimented before, naturally, but this is new.

Eventually Dean comes in, in boxers and a t-shirt. They’re both asleep by now, Sam wrapped around Lucifer, their legs tangled. Dean resists the urge to take a picture – Sam would 100% kill him, let alone what Lucifer would probably do. Instead he retreats, closing the door back behind himself and padding down the hallway to the living room.

Cas is spread out on the couch, looking no less of a mess than he had when they’d come out of the bedroom. His dark hair is messy and he’s got on one of Dean’s shirts and a pair of Dean’s sleep pants. (Dean thinks it’s adorable Cas likes to wear his clothes.) The angel glances at him as he passes through the room, blue eyes tired but affectionate, and Dean smiles back.

“Have you seen Sam and Lucifer in there?” He asks, heading into the kitchen and opening the fridge. “Oh, great, now I see – they drank all the alcohol we just bought.”

“Lucifer does quite like Sam,” Cas comments as Dean re-enters the room, swinging his legs off to give Dean somewhere to sit. “More than just the whole, Sam is his true vessel thing. Have you noticed?”

“Not really. ‘Course I haven’t paid much attention to the guy.”

“You should watch him.” Cas leans against Dean’s side and Dean wraps an arm around him, kissing his temple. “He gets nervous when Sam’s around.”

“I figured that was more of he was afraid Sam would kill him,” Dean replies, only half-joking. “So the Devil has a crush on my little brother. Who’da thunk it.”

“I think Sam’s warming up to him too,” Cas muses. “I mean, even if he was drunk.. wasn’t it you who told me that what you do when you’re drunk is what you want to do when you’re sober?”

Dean chuckles. “Yeah, probably. But.. I dunno,” He adds seriously, frowning. “I don’t want Sam to get hurt, y’know?”

“Lucifer’s had an affection for Sam for a long time – before the two of you were even born. He won’t hurt Sam.”

“If you think so,” Dean says. “I trust your judgement. But I swear if that son of a bitch does anything his head’s going over our fireplace. Anyway. I’m thinking we give the two of them some time to sleep and then try to see if they’ll get dinner.”

“Alright.” Cas leans his head against Dean’s shoulder, eyes closing, and Dean admires the angel for a moment. He can’t resist; he pushes Cas down on the couch, nuzzles his neck and his jaw until Cas purrs in laughter, head turning under Dean’s touch. Dean sighs contentedly against Cas’s throat, peppering little kisses on the marked skin.

“Love you, Cas,” He mumbles softly. “My angel.”

“Mm,” Cas hums, letting Dean twine their fingers. “Love you too.”


	7. Chapter 7

Lucifer wakes when Sam does.

Mostly it’s Sam’s fault, not that Lucifer has enough emotion to care at the moment. Sam had tried to be careful getting out of bed; but when Lucifer stirs, groans and rolls over and peeks at Sam from beneath the blond lashes, Sam mumbles “fuck” under his breath. Lucifer yawns, then, and stretches, sitting up.

“Something wrong?”

Sam exhales, shaking his head. “Nah. I was just hoping I could get up without waking you up. You need the rest.”

“I’m alright. I’m not _that_ fragile.” Lucifer yawns again, leaning back against the pillows and watching Sam move about the room in a manner that’s not quite intentional. “Sam?”

“Huh?”

Sam turns to him. He raises his eyebrows, frowning. “Are you sure you’re alright? You seem.. nervous.”

“It’s,” Sam pauses, trying to decide how to answer. “Fine. No worries.”

In all actuality it’s not fine – waking up next to the Devil had not only been fine with Sam, it had done something awful to his body that he didn’t necessarily want. And the open, innocently concerned gaze of the Archangel, laid out in his bed, isn’t helping in any way. Finally Sam pauses, inhales and exhales, and turns back to Lucifer.

“Sam?” Lucifer repeats, sounding ten times more nervous this time. Something in Sam’s eyes has changed; Lucifer has no idea what’s going on in his head, and more than one of the scenarios his mind provides involves murder. He shrinks a little as Sam approaches the bed; then Sam’s crawling over him, hovering, eyes narrowed, watching his face. Lucifer squeaks in a completely undignified manner, and then Sam’s lips are on his, careful and tentative, allowing him to pull away. As if he would want to.

“What was that?” Lucifer breathes once Sam leans back up. Sam swallows.

“I have no idea. Sorry, I..”

“No, no, it’s – fine..” Lucifer squirms a little bit, still nervous about Sam’s intentions. “Just.. unexpected..”

“So I can do it again?”

Lucifer nods silently; and this time he’s a little more receptive when Sam kisses him. Carefully his hands find Sam’s forearms, brush over his biceps lightly, and little by little Sam’s pressing down on him, moving to kneel between his thighs. The hunter coaxes him into parting his lips, callused fingers trailing down his sides, easing up under the hem of his shirt to spread out across his stomach.

When Sam goes to pull the shirt off, though, Lucifer flinches away, biting his lip. Sam pauses where he is, careful to take his hands away – instead resting one hand beside Lucifer’s head and leaning on only the one, making sure that Lucifer has an escape route, that Lucifer doesn’t feel trapped. With his other he lightly runs his fingers through the Archangel’s blond hair, watching for any signs of discomfort or unhappiness.

“You alright?” He murmurs, easing down on his forearm. Lucifer takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.

“It just.. brought up some memories. I’m okay.” Lucifer inhales, exhales, lets his eyes close, and he’s not surprised this time when Sam kisses him again. He relaxes, slowly, and once he’s calm Sam returns to stroking along his sides, his outer thighs and then back to lightly rubbing the tops of his wings until he whines softly. Sam’s gentle – gentler than Lucifer had been expecting, certainly – gentler than Lucifer’s used to it. It’s.. weird. Good – but weird.

After a moment, though, Lucifer pulls away again – he’s trembling, just a little. “Sam,” He breathes – as if he’s afraid Sam might disappear. “What’re we doing?”

“What do you want us to be doing?”

“I.. I don’t know.”

“Do you want to stop?” Sam nuzzles against his neck, warm breath ghosting over his skin, and after a moment of consideration he nods. Sam hums, rolling over off of him, and just like that – it’s done. He’d said no and Sam had stopped. It takes him a moment to restart – he realizes he’s been staring blankly at the ceiling for a couple of minutes, contemplating this, when Sam shakes him lightly, frowning in concern.

“Hey, you okay?”

He swallows hard, sitting up. “Yeah, just..”

He doesn’t finish. Sam seems to get the message. Finally he swings his legs out of bed, clearing his throat and returning to his normal attitude. Sam sees it happen – the moment the wall goes up. His back straightens, shoulders stiffen, wings folded up delicately, chin lifted somewhere between defiance and royalty. He stands and stretches and turns back to look at Sam, folding his arms.

“Do you think Dean and Castiel are done with.. whatever it was they were doing in there?”

“Probably not.” Sam chuckles and rolls his eyes, finally standing as well. “They go at it for hours. Anyway. Maybe you should take a shower while we have time? It might help you feel a little better.”

Lucifer frowns at him, inclining his head. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a thing. Something about showering and getting cleaned up makes anybody feel better.”

Lucifer hesitates, then shrugs. “I don’t see why not. Although – there is one problem – I don’t have anything clean to change into. I never really, you know.. needed, to change before.”

“Oh. Right. Uh – you can just – wear some of my stuff, until we can take you shopping. I’ll lay it out for you for when you get out.”

Lucifer nods, and his feet pad softly on the carpet when he approaches the bathroom. Sam calls after him where the towels are, and he raises a hand to show he’s heard before the door shuts. Sam watches the door for a moment longer, and then he shakes his head as all of his senses finally return to their natural state. What the hell had he just done? He touches his lips, bewildered by his own impulsive actions. He’s not even sure where they’d come from.

Still, he had promised Lucifer clothes, so he retrieves some boxers, a spare shirt and some sleep pants from his dresser and lays them out on the bed. He can hear the shower turn on, and – chasing some unsavory thoughts out of his head – he leaves Lucifer to it, slipping out of his room and shutting the door with a soft click. Then he takes a moment to properly stretch every muscle before he heads down the hall toward the living room.

Cas is laying in Dean’s lap, Dean petting his hair, clearly very content. Dean looks up at Sam’s entrance and nods. Sam nods back, stifling a groan in his fist as he settles in the armchair.

“Hey,” He says, unsure of what even to say. Dean raises an eyebrow.

“You feeling okay, Sammy?” When Sam doesn’t answer right away, Dean adds, “You seem pretty out of it.”

“It’s just.. stuff with Lucifer.” Sam rubs a hand down his face and sighs. Dean frowns.

“Do I need to hit him with something?”

“No, no!” Sam drops his hands and stares instead at Dean. “He hasn’t done anything yet. Just.. I don’t know, man. He’s fucking me up without even trying.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I kissed him,” Sam says bluntly; Dean’s so taken off guard he momentarily stops petting Cas’s hair, at least until the angel whines in protest and tugs his wrist.

“You _what_?”

“I kissed him,” Sam repeats. “I don’t know what happened. I woke up and.. I just.. wanted to. He was just lying there and he looked so – innocent, man. So I kissed him.” He rubs the back of his neck and groans. “I think I scared him.”

“I mean,” Dean says after a moment. “That’s one way to wake up, I guess?”

“What do I do now?” Sam glances at him, and the younger Winchester looks almost desperate. “Did I just fuck everything up?”

“Whoa there. That’s a leap.” Dean leans forward, frowning. “The real question is, did he push you away? Did he dislike it?”

“I – no? I don’t think so? He just seemed kind of surprised.”

“Well, surprise is better than disgust. Give him some time to get used to everything first, though. He’s pretty new to being human – you don’t want to overload him. What’s he up to?”

“I.. told him to take a shower. Not because he smells bad or anything,” Sam adds hastily, at Dean’s look of disbelief. “But, you know, showering and cleanliness makes _you_ feel better, and most people, so I figured it might help him relax.”

Dean takes a moment to think about it and then nods. “Well. I guess that’s.. better? I guess all you can do is give him time like I said. He’ll come around. Anyway, Sammy, you feel like getting us dinner? Not McDonald’s this time though.”

Sam smirks and rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Sure.”

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Lucifer’s learning how to work a shower.

He’s never needed to before, and it’s a little confusing. After he gets all of his clothes off and lays them neatly on the counter, he steps into the shower and spends ten minutes finding all the different settings. Finally he settles on one that he likes – hard enough to sting his skin but not hard enough to hurt – and turns it up pretty warm. Soon steam’s filling the shower and the bathroom and Lucifer’s content, scrubbing off all the dirt with a washcloth. He’d forgotten just how pale his vessel – he – actually is. The hot water also is actually soothing his tense muscles, making him feel a hundred times better.

He’s a little uncertain, using Sam’s shampoo, but it smells nice and Sam hadn’t exactly told him not to. He doesn’t use a whole lot, anyway; massaging it into his scalp doesn’t take much, thanks to his hair being so short. Perks of having short hair. It washes out just as easily as it had gone in, and then for a few moments he stands under the water, leaning on the wall and sighing. It’s so nice – man, had he been missing out.

Eventually he manages to drag himself out of the shower. The mirror is steamed up and his clothes are the slightest bit damp. He pulls out a couple of towels and dries off his hair, then the rest of his body. Then he carefully wipes the steam off the mirror and gazes at himself. He looks like hell – he’s thinning out, and man does he look tired. He needs a haircut and a shave. He watches himself extend his wings; his feathers are still in good condition, at least, strong and pliant and glowy the way they should be. Then he snaps himself out of it, rubbing a hand down his face and wrapping the larger towel around his waist. Even though he knows nobody’ll be out there – it just makes him feel better.

Sam was right, though, he thinks idly to himself as he exits the bathroom. Now that he’s showered he does feel a bit lighter. He slips into Sam’s clothes – they’re a little big on him, but in a comfortable way – and carefully cracks open the door. He can hear the TV on in the living room, and he hesitates, rubbing the palm of his hand with his thumb. A bad habit, he knows, but one he just can’t seem to kick. Finally he forces himself to go down the hallway.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to interact with the Winchesters (and Cas, but the way they interact Cas is already a Winchester). He does – so, so badly. But fucking hell, he’s not sure if _they_ want to interact with _him_. Sam had already.. gone above and beyond – but there’s a part of Lucifer reminding him that they could be playing him. And he hates that part, because it ruins everything he loves, but it’s always there no matter what he does.

Dean turns at his appearance in the doorway, giving him a friendly sort of nod. He bites his lip and nods back, moving to occupy the empty armchair. Cas is.. asleep, possibly, or maybe just resting. Lucifer can’t really tell.

“You okay?” Dean asks, which surprises Lucifer a little for absolutely no reason.

“I–” Lucifer hesitates momentarily. Dean quirks an eyebrow, frowning at him. He inhales, exhales, calming the awful back-part of his brain trying to surface all his awful memories.

“I’m okay.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shooooort shortie short short. i hate myself. :\

“Hey. Dean.”

They’ve been sitting in silence for about ten minutes now. Despite strangling the arms of the chair, grip so tight he can’t really feel his hands, Lucifer’s been doing well to hide the impending breakdown. His voice doesn’t even crack when he finally speaks up.

“Yep?” Dean glances briefly at him – just to be sure Lucifer’s not like, dying or something – and then back at the TV, although his head is tilted to let Lucifer know he’s listening.

“This might be an, um, odd question, coming from me, but..” Lucifer hesitates, rubbing his palm. “Do you really think Dad – er, God – brought me back out of that hellhole? And do you think – maybe – he might’ve, um, stuck around for a bit?”

That gets Dean’s attention. He looks over at the Archangel, who’s refusing to look back, instead fidgeting in his chair. The hunter frowns.

“Yeah, I think he’s out there,” Dean says eventually, after thinking about it for a moment. “And I’m pretty sure he’s the only one who _would_ raise you. Y’know. But..” He sighs, debating briefly on whether he should continue; and then he says, “There’s been a ton less monster attacks lately. Sam and Cas and I, we think he might be around kicking shit up. Finally lending a hand.”

Lucifer nods, taking the information in. He stares blankly at the TV for a minute. He can still remember the last time God had visited – his gentle touch, the soft kisses, singing to soothe Lucifer’s nightmares. He has to blink a few times before he manages to drag himself back when Dean speaks again.

“Huh?” He glances around at the hunter, brows furrowed.

“I said, what brought this on all of a sudden?” Dean’s frowning at him deeper than ever, so focused he’s stopped petting Cas’s hair. “You feelin’ okay, dude?”

Lucifer nods, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his wings around himself. After a moment Dean exhales, standing up and carefully laying Cas’s head on a pillow. Lucifer looks up at his approach; and then squeaks when the hunter lifts him briefly, just long enough to sit and drag him into his lap. Lucifer’s stiff, uncertain, nuzzled into Dean’s shoulder, at least until Dean’s hand moves in slow, soothing circles on his back. Then he relaxes, half-involuntarily, circling his arms around Dean’s neck and exhaling shakily. The tears come pretty quickly after that; falling in little dots on Dean's shirt and blurring Lucifer's vision.

“You’re safe here,” Dean murmurs against his ear. “I promise.”

Lucifer nods mutely. Dean smells nice – somewhere between natural _dude smell_ and whiskey. It’s soothing. Dean’s stroking his hair, the edges of his wings, not trying to put him to sleep, just trying to calm him a little. Eventually Lucifer pulls himself together, clearing his throat and gently detangling himself from Dean. Dean’s expression is unguardedly affectionate, and without warning Lucifer is overcome with emotion. He nearly chokes on an inhale and turns his back, ruffling his wings discontentedly. He’s somewhat glad he’s been crying, actually, because he has an excuse to leave.

“I’m gonna.. go clean up,” He mumbles, wiping away any remaining tears. Dean just nods and he retreats to the hallway bathroom.

Damn it. Damn it all. He’s never been so weak in his life. Something about being human seems to have just amplified every emotion he’s ever felt and all the negative ones seem to be crashing in on him at once. He turns on the water in the sink, splashes his face and tries to shake the emotions out of him. Not that _that_ works very well. After a moment of staring into the sink, watching the water drip from his jaw, he closes his eyes and lifts his head and sighs, “Castiel.” Behind him the younger angel shifts, obviously still a little unsettled by him.

“The Winchesters are worried about you,” Cas says bluntly; finally Lucifer cracks open his eyes and turns to him, leaning on the sink.

“Oh?”

Cas just sort of nods, shuffling his feathers nervously. Lucifer tilts his head, frowning.

“And what about you, little angel?” He continues smoothly. Cas’s blue gaze snaps up to his own. “Surely Dean didn’t send you to check up on me.. he’d do that on his own.”

“Well, yes,” Cas says, sounding hesitant. “I.. you’ve been.. odd.”

“Odd?” Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “Well. I’ve been called worse, certainly.”

“I just mean, the last time you were here, you were pretty determined to – er – destroy everything and anyone. But I don’t see that in you anymore. You’re.. different.”

Lucifer snorts, bowing his head momentarily. Then he raises his gaze back to Cas and sighs.

“Did you know Michael?” He asks, voice soft. “After I fell, of course.. you were still small during the war, I do remember you..”

“I.. worked under him, briefly,” Cas says, carefully shutting the door, just for more privacy. “I wasn’t all too fond of him.. or any of the Archangels, you’re.. sort of stuck up, no offense.”

“You’re not wrong.” Lucifer shrugs. “We are pretty stuck up. It happens when you’re groomed to be the favorites and there’s nobody else for millennia, and then suddenly Dad makes lesser angels and is like ‘nah you’re all equal’. Anyway. What was he like? Did he stay a jealous spoiled little brat forever?”

“In a way. He had a very strict way of doing things and anybody out of line was killed without question. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was effective. Got things done. He didn’t show his face much, now that I think about it – there were a select few that he gave orders to that ordered everybody else.”

“Sounds like Michael,” Lucifer mutters, moving from the sink to close the lid of the toilet and sitting down. “Surprised he went the killing route, though. Brother dearest had a thing for torture.”

Cas frowns, settling on the floor in front of him. “That was.. only what I’d heard. I got to meet him, a handful of times. He was always pretty cold, never said much. He, um, pushed me off a cloud once, when I got mouthy.”

Lucifer’s eyes roll and he grunts. “Definitely my brother. He was terrible. Self-centered. He liked to learn, which was bad for me, because I got to be the center of all of his experiments.”

“What about the others? Gabriel and Raphael?”

Lucifer grimaces, meeting Cas’s curious blue gaze. “I wouldn’t let him touch them. They weren’t going to be ruined like me. I was.. being corrupted, anyway, by the Mark of Cain. And Raphael wasn’t ever a target, in any case. Michael had raised Raph a specific way, so he didn’t need to go there. And I wasn’t about to let Gabe be hurt. I’d raised him, he was mine, and he was going to be safe if it killed me.” Then he cuts off, lets out a short, bitter bark of a laugh and stares hard at the floor. “At least til _I_ killed him.”

Cas just sort of nods, frowning up at the Archangel. Lucifer’s hands are shaking – just a little – but nevertheless Lucifer raises his head. “Did you come in here just to talk about Michael?”

“No, actually.” Cas ruffles his feathers, straightening up. “I had a few questions, about the way Heaven used to be..”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh btw yall i have a tumblr (headcanonsofthesupernatural) if yall wanna go follow me ;*

This is the most relaxed Lucifer’s been since – well, as long as Cas has known of him.

He’s actually open and receptive, and once or twice he’s even smiled. At some point Cas had rested his head on Lucifer’s knee, but they’d been too deep in conversation to notice or bother with it. Eventually the topic dies down, though, and they’re left sitting in a comfortable sort of silence.

“Lucifer,” Cas says softly after a pause. “Can I ask you something?”

“Pretty sure that’s all you’ve been doing,” Lucifer jokes. “Shoot.”

“Why’d you go for this vessel? The first time, I mean.”

“Nick?” Lucifer’s expression fades into a frown. “I guess.. I sort of sympathized with him. Even though he wasn’t open like others were, at least in the beginning, I just.. connected, more than being able to convince him. I know the pain of losing a child – although, not in the same way – and when I promised justice, when he let me in, he went to Heaven with his family again. I guess I just.. wanted that for him.”

Cas nods, without question. Lucifer had almost forgotten the feeling of having a younger angel looking up to him. The suffocating feeling around his heart eases a little, and without thinking about it he runs his fingers through Cas’s hair. Cas leans into the touch, eyes closing contentedly. Cas is nestled against his leg, and the body heat Cas manages to give off is extraordinary.

After a moment Cas peeks up at him, and his admiration is clear. Lucifer can’t help the soft chuckle that passes his lips, and Cas frowns. “What?”

“Nothing, little angel,” Lucifer murmurs. “Just.. it’s been a long time since anybody looked up to me. In both a literal sense and.. you know.”

Cas nods again, sitting up on his knees. He’s a closer to eye level – still low enough to have to look up a little, though. Lucifer’s expression is impassive, trying to decide what Cas’s next action will be.

He starts when Cas touches his hands; they turn over obediently and Cas twines their fingers, easy and gentle. Cas is scanning his face, every last bit like it’s the last time he’ll get to see it. And then – slowly, carefully – the younger angel leans in, presses their lips together. Lucifer hesitates, frozen briefly. Finally he relaxes into it, letting his eyes slip shut, letting Cas take the lead and exhaling into the kiss.

“Mmh,” Lucifer mumbles when he pulls back. “Man, am I being a slut today.”

“How so?” Cas murmurs.

“Sam kissed me earlier and.. y’know.. I went with it..”

“Well,” Cas says after a moment, the beginnings of a smirk teasing the corners of his mouth. “It’s a good thing we aren’t shy about sharing in this house, hm?”

Lucifer stares at him for a moment, cheeks dusted lightly with pink. He clears his throat a couple of times, clearly trying to figure out how he should respond to that, not that Cas is going to let him, instead catching him in another kiss. Lucifer lets his arms wrap around Cas’s neck and Cas growls softly, possessively.

Cas moves down to his neck – not biting hard enough to leave marks, just kissing and nipping and sucking softly. Lucifer whines vaguely, he’s practically melting because god damn if his neck isn’t a soft spot. Cas kisses over his collarbones, nuzzles down against his chest, his stomach, until he’s on the floor again, cheek resting against one thigh, breath ghosting over his crotch. He shudders, biting his lip.

“I’ll stop if you want me to,” Cas murmurs. Lucifer hesitates; he’s trembling, somewhere between arousal and terror, but having Cas be beneath him doesn’t seem to freak him out as badly.

“I’m.. you can keep going,” He answers, in a small voice. “Please.”

Cas hums, easily slipping Lucifer’s sweatpants down. Lucifer’s breath is coming in soft, short pants, ice-blue eyes dark as he watches Cas do his thing. Cas glances up at him briefly, just to make sure everything is still going well, and Lucifer gives a short nod. Then the underwear goes next, piled neatly to the side with the pants, and then Lucifer’s half-naked and shaking slightly.

“Castiel,” Lucifer breathes, moments before Cas’s tongue drags a long strip up the bottom of his cock. He whines, head tilting back, fingers twisting into Cas’s dark hair. Cas looks up, lightly sucking on the tip, just to watch the tremors taking Lucifer by storm. The younger angel lets the whole head slip past his lips, watching – half in awe – as Lucifer whimpers and keens and pushes lightly on his head, in the sort of way that means he’s desperate. Still; Cas knows it’s probably been a while since Lucifer’s been pleasured, so he lets it slide.

This time.

Cas is careful to use his tongue, sliding it along the vein on the bottom the further down he sucks. Lucifer’s stopped pushing, but his grip is tight on Cas’s hair, and he’s obviously straining to hold still. His chest heaves with every breath, head tilted back, flushed red, shaking from head to toe. Cas resists the urge to smirk. He’d never figured the Archangel to be submissive before, but also it’s.. not surprising. He’d have had to have some weakness. Lucifer jerks, though, when Cas takes him all the way down. He can’t help it. He’s keening and whining and almost begging, tugging on Cas’s hair, heels digging into Cas’s shoulderblades.

“Cas,” Lucifer gasps softly, biting his lip momentarily, hard enough to draw blood. “Cas, I’m – I – Cas..”

Before he gets the chance to finish, though, Cas pulls off, smirking up at him. He keens pathetically and squirms, lightly licking the droplets of blood from his lip. He fucking aches, he needs release so bad and he’s just the littlest bit frustrated at Cas’s teasing. When he opens his mouth, though – even though he’s not really sure what he’s going to say – Cas hushes him with a kiss, thumbs rubbing soothingly over his cheeks. He can taste his own precum, a little on the salty side, and he whines. He can’t stop his hips bucking when one of Cas’s hands wraps around his cock, stroking easily up his length.

“Cum for me,” Cas coaxes softly. “It’s okay.”

It takes a few more strokes for him to finish, but when he does it’s fantastic. His head tilts back, and Cas takes the opportunity to bite down on his neck – just hard enough to leave a hickey. His entire body is trembling. At least Cas had had the foresight to push his shirt up.

Lucifer groans, half-involuntarily, and lets himself sink into Cas’s arms. He buries his face against Cas’s shoulder and exhales shakily, taking a moment to let Cas’s hand rubbing circles on his back soothe him. His eyes close and he ruffles his feathers as he relaxes, lightly kneading Cas’s shirt. Finally Cas nudges him to get up, kissing his jaw and his cheek and his neck.

“Sam’s probably home with dinner by now,” The angel mumbles. “They’re probably gonna start thinking we died in here or.. something.”

Lucifer nods vaguely, standing up – a bit shakily – and retrieving his underwear and pants. Somehow he manages to get them on and still be in one piece at the end. Now that he’s coming down from the high his head is starting to clear a little. It’s not really that he’s embarrassed – it’s not the first time and certainly not the last time that he’s done shameful things of that particular nature – but he is indefinitely confused on his feelings.

On one hand, there’s Sam – and he’s had a crush on Sam for a very, very long time. But also, Cas – an angel, one of the best, who had rebelled for what he thought was right. He reminded Lucifer of himself. (And also, that vessel. Hot damn.) But also Dean, attractive and funny and terrifyingly brilliant. And every one of them is being so fucking gentle and it’s screwing with Lucifer’s perception of attraction, damnit.

“Come on,” Cas says softly, touching his arm and making him jump. “Obviously there’s a lot on your mind. It might be easier to think once you’ve eaten.” Lucifer hesitates and then nods shortly.

“Yeah. Okay.”


	10. Chapter 10

Cas is right. Lucifer does feel ten times better after dinner.

He’s acclimating to salty fast-foods, thank fuck, and now he’s full and sleepy and lazy. He’s curled up against Cas’s side on the couch, one arm slung over Cas’s waist and hanging off the couch, one wing resting protectively over them. Cas also has one dark wing wrapped around Lucifer. At least he won’t have to worry about being cold.

The Winchesters, to their credit, take it in stride that Lucifer’s warming up to them. Especially after his little fit the first night. They’re obviously a little taken aback by Lucifer’s attachment to Cas, but they don’t say anything as they take over the armchairs. Dean takes the remote, flips through a few channels before settling on ‘NCIS’. Lucifer’s warm, and the hum of the TV and the Winchester’s conversation and Cas’s heartbeat are all very soothing, but even though he’s tired he’s too jittery to sleep. He zones out a few times, staring at the TV – after NCIS is... more NCIS, a different one. After a while it all starts to blur together.

Sam’s the first to go to bed. He says something about trying to keep a normal schedule despite the change in lifestyle, which Dean teases him for. He gives Lucifer a meaningful glance. And then he’s gone. Eventually Lucifer manages to get his thoughts in line long enough to detach himself from Cas and shuffle after the younger Winchester, rubbing exhaustedly at his eyes. Sam’s door is left open a crack, light shining out from under it, and Lucifer pushes it open and gently shuts it behind himself when he enters. Sam’s sitting up still, reading by the light of his lamp, and he’s got glasses on and Lucifer can’t help the pang in his chest. He smiles nervously and Sam nods at him, shifting over to give him space to lay down. Sam’s bed is distressingly soft. He eases under the covers, and after a pause Sam flicks off the lamp and curls up around him. He exhales, long and slow, and relaxes into Sam’s arms.

He tosses and turns, though, trying not to disturb Sam with his restlessness, but eventually he sits up and throws his legs out of bed. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, stifling a groan of frustration at his inability to sleep. Behind him Sam sits up, too, shifting to wrap both arms around his waist.

“Having a hard time?” Sam murmurs, lightly stroking his stomach; he sighs and nods, tilting his head back against Sam’s shoulder. “Is something wrong? Or you just.. can’t sleep?”

“Just can’t sleep, I guess,” Lucifer mumbles. “Sam.. can we go for a walk?”

“Sure.” Sam frowns a little, but nevertheless lets him go and moves back to the other side of the bed to get up. He inhales, exhales, gratefully taking the shoes Sam offers, and he’s first out of Sam’s bedroom and out the front door. Sam almost has to call him to wait; but he’s obedient, hovering around Sam impatiently whilst the Winchester locks the door behind them. The chill of the night air is comforting, almost revitalizing, even though Lucifer’s regrettably-human body doesn’t seem to think so.

“So, what’s up with you?” Sam asks mildly, once they’re on their way. Lucifer glances at him in confusion. “See.. you’re a lot like me. What’d you say, M.F.E.O.? I walk when I’m thinking too much.”

Lucifer exhales. It’s cold enough he can see his breath. It’s reminiscent of Heaven – of _home_. He’d been cold his entire life, burning coldly like his stars, unlike most other angels, and so while they had been.. less than happy with the cold parts of Heaven, they’d been Lucifer’s playground. He shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing up at the moon.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” He admits quietly after a few minutes. “All of this.. human stuff. Cold and heat and hunger and thirst and sleep. I’ve never really.. done much with it. Ever. Even in the Cage I wasn’t physically affected by the heat, I was still an angel. But now, I’ve.. I’ve lost my way, I guess. I don’t know how to be human. And even more than that I’ve.. you humans, you feel so much. So much _emotion_. I’ve no idea how you cope with it on a daily basis. It feels like – um – it feels like I’ve been thrown in an ocean but I can’t swim.”

Sam listens without saying anything, carefully mulling over Lucifer’s words. Lightly he tugs Lucifer’s hand, pulling him down to a bench to look over the local lake. The moon’s shining on the water, along with the stars. Lucifer’s staring at them wistfully, leaning his arms on his knees.

“Well, you were sent to us for us to help you,” Sam says finally. “And that means any kind of help. You’re only a few billion years old, I’m sure you can pick this stuff up easy.”

Lucifer laughs, running a hand through his messy hair. “I hope so. I hope.. I hope one day I can make Dad proud. Maybe he’ll restore my grace then. But until then, I’m just.. whatever awful shreds of my personality are left.”

“They’re not all awful.” Sam nudges him, but there’s a genuine smile gracing the Winchester. “I think you can be good. You just need a little help with that.”

“And romantic feelings!” Lucifer finally blurts out, sitting up straight and throwing his hands up. A couple of pigeons fly away in fear. “You guys have so _many_! What the hell, I thought you guys were monogamous, but no, human beings have to have feelings for everyone!”

“What do you mean?” Sam’s frowning at him, eyebrows raised. “About.. all of that, actually.”

Lucifer exhales, rubbing his temples. “See, angels, we’re _actually_ monogamous. Or, we’re supposed to be. We fall in love with _one_ other angel, and we mate for life. There’s no cheating; once you settle, you’re settled. Have a couple of kids, maybe. But you humans.. I mean, you cheat on each other all the time. And I just.. ughhh, you guys keep confusing me. I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore. I don’t know if this is actually romantic feelings or if it’s just been so long since anybody’s given me positive attention I’ve convinced myself of it.”

“For who?” Sam’s question is innocent, although Lucifer can hear the held back hope. He rubs his face with one hand and leans against Sam’s side.

“I don’t know,” He mumbles. “Everybody? Seriously, Sam, I know all of three people, who else would I be confused on?”

Sam just sort of chuckles, runs a hand down his back lightly. “Given the mark on your neck.. I can only guess one of the others has gotten to you first. Told you we do a lot of sharing.”

“Castiel,” Lucifer sighs truthfully. “What does that mean.. share?”

“Well.. sometimes, humans have multiple people in a relationship. It’s even got a name: polyamory. Not a lot of people practice it, but none of us here are really good with the settling with only one person thing. Usually it’s just the three of us, but if you’re willing..” Sam shrugs a little bit. “But, hey. You don’t have to decide tonight. It’s late and you haven’t been sleeping well. Why don’t we go home and get some sleep, and in the morning we can talk some more?”

Lucifer exhales and nods, letting Sam tug him to his feet. He glances up at the stars again as they’re walking back; Sam seems to notice his gaze and slides an arm around him.

“You miss your home, don’t you?”

Lucifer looks over to him in surprise, but the expression is quickly replaced with sadness. “Yeah,” He murmurs. “After all this time. Guess I shouldn’t. I know they don’t want me. Just.. I never really got to grow up, before we had the war with The Darkness, you know? So I did all of my growing up, after the war, in Heaven. So I guess I’m just still attached.”

“Well.. it makes sense. I mean, that was your home for.. what, centuries? It’s natural.” Sam kisses his temple softly. “Don’t worry. Sooner or later we’ll get everything fixed the way it should be.”

“I hope so, Sam.” Lucifer casts one more glance at the light before stepping back into the house. “I hope so.”


	11. Chapter 11

Lucifer sleeps, eventually; a whole twelve hours at that. When he wakes he’s alone in Sam’s bed, but there’s toast on the bedside table. The TV’s on in the other room. He sits up, letting the blankets fall from around his shoulders, and rubs sleepily at his eyes. Man – he feels better rested now than he can ever remember. He takes a moment to eat one of the pieces of toast, and then munches on the other to get out of bed and down the hall. The Winchesters minus Cas are sitting in various places, watching the news; Lucifer beelines for Sam and makes his seat out of Sam’s lap. Dean waggles his eyebrows at Sam, who flips him off.

“So how’d you sleep?” Sam asks, pretending Dean isn’t giving him a suggestive sort of look. “You were out for a while.”

“Mm,” Lucifer says as an answer, nestling down against Sam’s chest and turning his attention to the news.  “Slept like a fledgling. I feel so much better. Even if I am still only half awake.”

“I’ve never understood that saying,” Cas says from the doorway; they all turn to him. “Even humans have it – ‘slept like a baby’. But babies – and fledglings, mind you – they just, cry all night and are generally annoying.”

“Hm,” Lucifer says, scanning Cas once over. “Now I see why you never worked in the nursery. You have a point, though..”

“Like you would have?” Cas says, half-teasingly, curling up against Dean’s side with his feet drawn up. “ _You_?”

“I was very good with the fledglings, thank you,” Lucifer says, pretending to be offended, although the smile tugging at his mouth begs to differ. “I had the magic touch.”

“Uh-huh,” Cas says, raising his eyebrows; Lucifer snorts.

“Listen, if I could raise Gabriel, you regular angels are nothing to care for. Trust me.”

“Mm, that’s fair.” Cas shrugs, swinging his legs over Dean’s lap. “After all, knowing Gabe, he sure was.. well, he was something.”

“Yeah, he was.” Lucifer’s smile fades and he frowns, staring blankly at the wall. He hadn’t wanted to kill Gabriel. Something had just.. taken over him, forced his hand. One quick jerk and it had been over. And Dad knows he’d regretted it as soon as it was done. Abruptly he stands, finishing off the toast and stretching his wings.

“I’m going to the library,” He says. Then he winces a little. “Actually, uh, make that the bathroom. Then the library.”

“I’ll come get you when we do lunch,” Sam calls after his back. He waves a hand to show he’s heard, disappearing into the hallway.

Finally he gets around to the library and heads off through the shelves. The book he’s looking for is Angelican, and from a very long time ago, so Lucifer’s 95% sure it won’t be here. Still; it doesn’t hurt to look, and in any case libraries have always been soothing to him. And in any case Sam and Dean always seem to have things they realistically shouldn’t.

“What book are you looking for?” Cas says from the doorway, attracting Lucifer’s attention. Lucifer frowns a little. “I know all the books in here,” Cas adds. “I’ve looked through them a thousand times.”

“It’s very old,” He begins hesitantly, carefully choosing his words. “Angelican. The last I remember having it was Michael, before my fall. Bound in a cow’s hide, written in goat’s blood. It’s called.. um.. something like, Mysterious Past, I think? But I doubt it’s here. If anything it’s probably sealed away in Heaven’s library, or possibly still in Michael’s office, with the way my brother put things back. The magic in that book is very old, and very dangerous, so naturally Michael read it to me as a bedtime story. It’s.. comforting.” Lucifer hates lying, especially to Cas – the book is far from comforting, in fact the thought of it makes his skin crawl, but there’s one specific spell he needs. But he knows good and well that if he tells what it is he’s planning, everybody in the nearest 50 miles would probably try to stop him.

Cas nods, expression thoughtful as Lucifer returns to the shelves, examining the fairy tales. Finally he says, “I could go up and see if I could find it. If you want it that badly.”

Lucifer pauses, one hand on a thick leather-bound book. He turns back to look at Cas, who’s very obviously serious about it. His brows furrow and he frowns lightly at the other angel.

“Seriously?”

“Yes. You’ve changed quite a bit, Lucifer, and I am always willing to help a friend.”

Friend. The word yanks at Lucifer’s heart, digging its nasty little claws in and making him uncomfortable. Not because he doesn’t want to be friends with Cas or the Winchesters – their kindness has been overwhelming, actually, especially considering what he’s done – but because he hasn’t had _friends_ in who knows how long. He reminds himself the lie isn’t that bad.

Even if it might kill him.

Still, he offers Cas a smile, pulling his book off the shelf. “That would be great. If you can find it I’d feel better.”

Cas nods, moving to leave the library. After a moment’s hesitation Lucifer calls him back, examining the young angel.

“Thank you, Castiel.” Lucifer says, inclining his head a little. “Seriously.”

Cas just gives him the faintest of smiles and then he’s gone, probably to put more appropriate clothes on. Momentarily Lucifer wonders where he’s going to get in – will he actually try and take the visitors entrance – would they even let him in? Without his flight feathers Lucifer’s not really sure how else he’d get in.

Finally he starts on the book. He’s read Cinderella – he’d found it a bit dull, actually, until he discovered the original with cutting off heels, which was neat – Snow White, Beauty and the Beast (a personal favorite), Hansel and Gretel, and Rumpelstiltskin, along with some of the other books – of which he took great joy in ‘The Picture of Dorian Grey’. Eventually, about 11:30 so says the clock on the wall, he puts the book down and rubs at his eyes. The real world looks so odd after having spent an hour and a half poring over a book.

When he comes out of the library he can hear water running down the hall, and he assumes Dean is showering. Or at least he sure hopes it’s Dean, because Sam is sitting on the couch, watching.. something or other. Lucifer moves over to sit beside Sam, lounging his legs out across the younger Winchester’s legs and smirking a little bit at Sam’s raised eyebrows.

“Honestly, you angels,” Sam says, pretending to be upset, although the hints of a grin are tugging at his mouth. “Everything is a chair to you guys.”

“Um,” Lucifer says, holding up a hand to stop him. “No? Everything is a _throne_ , thank you.”

“Oh, excuse me, princess.” Sam shakes his head, actually grinning now. “I forgot about your ‘holier than thou’ attitude.”

“I _am_ holier than you,” Lucifer says, shrugging. “Cas too.”

“You. The Devil. Holy. Isn’t that kind of, um, exactly the opposite of everything ever written about you?”

“Hm.” Lucifer frowns, mock-thoughtfully. “I guess you’re right. Guess these mean nothing anymore,” He adds, sighing dramatically and spreading out his wings all over the couch. Sam just laughs, giving one feather a light flick so that Lucifer squeaks and tucks his wings back under him again.

“I love that,” Sam chuckles, watching Lucifer huff a protest. “Just _touching_ your wings gets you guys.”

“Yeah, well,” Lucifer grumbles, a very light shade of pink. “Not as fun as you like to think.”

“Oh.. I dunno..” Sam’s grin shifts to a self-satisfied smirk as he leans in, resting his forehead to Lucifer’s. “I think it could be pretty fun for both of us.”

“Oh,” Lucifer manages; every thought he’d had has just come skidding to a halt before reaching his mouth. “Well.. I.. um..”

Sam doesn’t let him flounder for too long, instead lightly pressing their lips together. Lucifer exhales slowly, reaching up to brush his fingers through Sam’s hair. Sam hums contentedly, hands moving to cup Lucifer’s jaw.

Lucifer’s just relaxing into it when a shriek from the TV effectively ends it, seeing as they both jump hard enough to send Lucifer to the floor. He hisses indignantly, rubbing his back and frowning at the show.

“What the hell are you even watching?”

“No idea,” Sam says, frowning a little and extending a hand to help Lucifer back onto the couch. “Dean turned it on then went to shower. Um.. I think it’s something like 16 and Pregnant? Or something?”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Lucifer raises his eyebrows and folds his arms. “You people actually make _television_ out of such a thing?”

“I guess.” Sam shrugs. Lucifer huffs a little bit, sitting up.

“Well. I don’t see what the big deal with getting pregnant even is. I mean, you – you do it on purpose before you’ve even found permanent settlement. You seek it out. I suppose it’s because you have such short life spans.. thank Dad Castiel has had the good sense to be safe when he’s with Dean. Or I sure do hope so. Mini Deans running around..” Lucifer shudders at the thought. It feels almost as wrong as any mini Gabriels his brother might have spawned in his time on Earth.

“Wait – what do you mean? Cas is a dude.” Sam’s expression tells Lucifer everything. He clicks his tongue in disappointment, shaking his head.

“Oh, Sammy,” He sighs. “He hasn’t told you. Of _course_ he can get pregnant. All angels can, even me. And, for the record, it is _awful_.”

“Wh- _what_?” Sam is so bewildered that Lucifer has to resist laughing. He’d never figured it’d be _him_ giving Sam sex ed on angels, but hey – somebody has to.

“See, I told you angels mate for life. Well, obviously, Dad isn’t going to be making any new angels, so he left that part to us. And of all the things God is, discriminatory isn’t one of them. We don’t actually have genders, remember, so any angel in any vessel can still get knocked up. It just.. tends to be a little more difficult in a male vessel. Especially with a human. But it is possible.”

“And – and you said-“

“Sam,” Lucifer says gently, catching one of Sam’s hands with his own. “I am billions of years old, and I have suffered through much. Including an angel pregnancy. Well – er – part of one, anyway..” He clears his throat. “But it is absolute hell. Since we live much longer, and are much more powerful, it lasts longer – 11 months, for you. And it is.. incredibly difficult to keep up. ‘s sort of why we’re dying out.”

“Oh,” Sam says faintly, frowning at Lucifer. “Uh.. what, what happened?”

“It’s.. a long story.” Lucifer fidgets a little, worrying his lower lip a little. “No worries.”

“Lucifer.” Sam’s seeming to overcome his shock in light of Lucifer’s clear discomfort. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Lucifer inhales deeply, letting his eyes rest shut momentarily and then opening them, offering Sam a shaky smile. “It was a long time ago.”

“What was?” Dean says from the doorway, at the same time Sam says “Was it Michael?” Lucifer hesitates between them, folding his arms and ruffling his feathers uncomfortably. He’s careful to keep his gaze off of Dean, who’s got just a towel around his waist. Sam rolls his eyes at his brother.

“Maybe you should go put on pants first?”

Dean glances down, then back up and shrugs. “We’re all family here, one way or another.”

Sam sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dean. Go put on _something_ , for fuck’s sake. I don’t need to see your dick every time you take a shower, thanks.”

“Okay, fine.” Dean raises his hands. “But I disagree.”

He drops his towel and smirks at them before turning and disappearing down the hallway. Sam groans, shaking his head and keeping his eyes shut until Dean’s door closes. Then he glances at Lucifer, hoping the Archangel isn’t traumatized for life or anything. Lucifer’s got his face covered, but the tips of his ears are a light pink, and Sam can only imagine the blush he’s hiding.

“Does he.. do that often?” Lucifer mumbles, voice muffled by his hands. Sam huffs, lightly pulling his hands away; he’s blushing hard, practically painted in pink-bordering-on-red.

“Too much,” Sam grumbles, wrapping both arms around Lucifer and dragging the Archangel against himself. “I think I’m nearly to the point of going blind.”

Lucifer chuckles shakily, burying his face against Sam’s neck and relaxing into Sam’s arms. He’s comfortable, at least.

“To answer your question, Sam,” Lucifer murmurs. “No, it wasn’t Michael this time.”

“Oh,” Sam says, nuzzling against the top of Lucifer’s head. “Okay.”

And that’s it. Sam just – drops it. There’s no pushing to find out what happened, no stress, just the end of the conversation. It’s so foreign to Lucifer he’s not even sure where to go after that. Instead he fixes his attention on the TV, even if the show is awful, at least until Dean returns, still squirming into his shirt. As soon as he’s done with that he scoops Lucifer up and settles himself on the couch next to Sam, one arm wrapped lazily around the startled Archangel.

“I’m not the only one who needs a shower, Sammy,” Dean says in answer to Sam’s look of confusion, without looking at his brother. “Go. I got this.”

Sam exhales, long and slow, then nods and stands. “I’ll be out in a bit.”

Dean waves a hand at him, and he heads off into the hallway. Lucifer shifts a little to get more comfortable in Dean’s lap, lightly resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean hums softly, one hand rubbing his back in little circles.

“So where’d Cas go?” Dean murmurs after a minute. “He just came out here saying he had to go get something, and left.”

“I wanted a book you guys didn’t have. It’s in Heaven. He went to get it.” Lucifer sighs and shakes his head. “Dumbass.”

“So, what, he’s just gonna walk up to them and say ‘I need a book, let me in for five minutes’?”

“I guess.” Lucifer exhales, sliding out of Dean’s lap and instead resting his head on Dean’s leg. “I didn’t ask. I’m not sure he even knew.”

Dean hums in answer, running his fingers lightly through Lucifer’s blond hair. Lucifer sighs contentedly, stretching out his legs and lazily slinging one arm off the couch. He’s comfortable; a little hungry, but he’ll live.

At noon exactly Cas returns. Sam’s just gotten out of the shower and is talking animatedly to Dean and Lucifer about something or other; but they all look around at the door opening. He shuts the door behind him, carefully taking off his shoes the way he always does, and moves to sit in the unoccupied armchair. Then he slips one hand into his coat and pulls out the book, grinning, and Lucifer feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“I got it.”


	12. Chapter 12

“You – you – what? _How_?”

Lucifer takes the book. His hands are shaking. The magic is making him itch, tugging at him, begging to be used. He nearly drops it. Still; he manages to get it to a table in the library, even though it’s making his whole body shake.

“Back entrance. Unused now. It wasn’t hard; they’re a little preoccupied with.. whatever’s happening.” Cas settles in a chair across from them, somewhat uninterested – or at least, pretending to be. Lucifer’s sure he can feel the magic too. Chances are he’s wary of it.

The Winchesters are crowded around, watching as he delicately flips the cover. It’s breathing, whispering to him, magic older than he is that hasn’t been used in centuries. It’s powerful, he can feel it – and dangerous. At least Sam and Dean can’t quite read it. It’s Enochian, and while Lucifer’s sure Cas has probably been teaching them, he hopes they aren’t fluent enough to know what some of these spells are.

“Oh, man,” Lucifer mumbles, running his fingers down the page. “It’s so strong.”

“What do you mean?” Sam’s the first to pull away, frowning. Lucifer shivers.

“The magic in this book,” He breathes. “It’s.. powerful. Stronger than anything I’ve ever..”

He trails off, reverently turning the pages. He remembers a few of these spells; Michael had tried a few, taught him a few others. Destruction, creation, manipulation – it’s all here. And holy fuck does Lucifer want to use it. It would be so easy to just..

He slams the book shut, taking a couple of steps back and inhaling deeply to clear his head. He rubs forcefully at his eyes, and even though it’s still calling to him, it’s weaker now that he’s abandoned his touch on it. Unfortunately his reaction seems to have concerned the others, who are frowning at him.

“You okay?” Dean asks finally, arms folded. He nods, leaning against a bookshelf and sinking to the floor.

“That book,” He says gruffly after a pause. “It is very, _very_ old. Older than me. The magic within is incredibly strong. Especially since I have a connection with it. It’s.. it calls to angels.”

He closes his eyes, tilting his head back, just trying to focus on breathing instead of the fact that the entire room is spinning in front of him. Dean moves over, crouching next to him, slipping an arm around his shoulders, and he leans gratefully into the hunter.

“I’m alright,” He manages eventually, standing up with Dean’s help. His gaze is drawn back to the book, just because. It looks so damn innocent, just sitting there. He comforts himself with the thought that he’ll use it again, hopefully soon.

“If it’s going to affect you that much..” Sam starts, but Lucifer shakes his head.

“I’ll adjust. It’s just because I’ve been separate from it for so long.” He psyches himself up and moves back over to the book, forcing down the surge of want that threatens to overcome him. Carefully he opens the book again, flipping through the pages, examining some of the spells. Then one catches his eye and he freezes as he reads it.

Grace mutilation.

He only has brief flashes of memory from Michael’s use of it; just awful, fiery pain, and blood splattered everywhere, and the sound of his own voice, hoarse from screaming and begging. His knuckles whiten on the back of the chair he’s leaning on, and a little more forcefully than necessary he turns the page again. His discomfort is noted by the others, but they don’t say anything. Finally the one he’s been looking for jumps at him and he stops to read it, frowning at some of the ingredients.

It did seem easy enough..

He exhales and shuts the book again, gently this time. “I think that’s enough,” He says decisively. “I can get accustomed to it later. For now.. what about lunch?”

Sam shrugs, although he’s still got a nervous hand resting on Lucifer’s back. Dean seems to agree, though, because he nods and straightens up and gives them all a pretty smile.

“Cas?” Dean says, nodding outside; Cas stands, and Dean takes his hand. Lucifer watches them go, sitting up on the table. Lightly Sam covers one of Lucifer’s hands with one of his own; Lucifer glances at him, a little surprised, and he smiles softly. Lucifer relaxes, twining their fingers, and gently Sam kisses him. Sam eases between his legs, free hand moving to his waist – not in a pushy, sexual sort of way, just as a way to keep them grounded.

“Sam,” Lucifer mumbles, pulling back a couple of centimeters, without opening his eyes; Sam hums. “What are we?”

“Mm,” Sam muses thoughtfully. “What do you mean?”

“I mean – are we – are we.. a, a thing? Or..”

“Do you want to be?” Sam chuckles softly. “Just a warning that taking on one of us is taking on the rest of us. And we’d have to talk to Cas and Dean.. but I’m sure they wouldn’t say no to you.”

Lucifer’s a delicate shade of pink, blue eyes slightly nervous. “I.. I think so. You guys.. you’re so good to me. More than anyone ever..”

Sam, reaching up and cupping his face, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “Then we should go outside,” The Winchester murmurs, making as though to move away, but Lucifer catches his wrists.

“Not yet. Let’s stay in here.. just for a few more minutes.”

Sam smirks a little, recatching him in another kiss. He exhales contentedly, winding both legs around Sam’s hips and letting Sam’s tongue in. Sam’s getting a little rougher; Lucifer finds he doesn’t mind all that much. Sam growls softly, possessively, tugging lightly on Lucifer’s lower lip.

“You’ll be safe here,” Sam says eventually, pulling away. Lucifer nods, panting softly. Carefully Sam helps him down from the table and lets him find his balance. But when Sam moves towards the door Lucifer hesitates; he glances at the book and then back to Sam.

“You go on. I’m just gonna put this away until I’m ready for it.”

Sam frowns a little. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s probably for the best.” Lucifer offers him a small smile, and after a moment of consideration Sam sighs and nods.

“Alright. You know where we’ll be.”

Lucifer nods, watching Sam’s retreating back before turning to the book. Carefully he opens the book, leaning over it and turning to the spell he’s been looking for. The pages crinkle at his touch, and in the right lighting the words still look wet. He scans over the ingredients he’ll need and frowns a little. As far as he can tell Sam and Dean would have most of them, which is good, because he’s not sure he could get anything without catching their suspicions.

“Sorry, boys,” He murmurs as he closes the book and carefully places it somewhere only he’d be able to find it. “But this is too important to give up.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should i be sorry? yes  
> am i? no

As it turns out Dean can cook. Grill. Whatever.

They have burgers for lunch, and it’s.. nice. They sit around on the patio and talk and laugh, just like an actual family, and it’s completely new and Lucifer loves it. The others all seem to want to touch him and man, he feels special. He knows he should probably feel a bit subdued, considering he’ll be dead by the end of the week, but right now he’s not thinking about that. He’s thinking about the way Dean’s touches last a little too long, the way Sam keeps shooting him little lovey glances, Cas’s grace brushing lightly against his own. It’s a little disorienting, actually, getting swept up in so much affection, not that he's really complaining.

Still; their niceness only expands the little tingle of guilt in the back of Lucifer’s mind. He considers, briefly, telling them his plan, but he knows they’d stop him; and not only that they’d send the book – and the spell he needs – back where it came from before he could use it. So he keeps to himself, lets himself be distracted by their dumb jokes and corny pick-up lines, lets himself be brought into their family. It’s closer than his own, certainly. And it’s nice.

Afterwards they retreat inside to relax. Lucifer resumes his place laying on the couch, splayed out across both Cas and Dean’s laps, Dean stroking his hair absently. He’s gotten a different book this time, not a fairy tale but one of the deeper lore books, and he’s reading carefully, half-tuned in to the conversation of the others. Then, after he’s read the same paragraph about four times, a yawn overtakes him; he pulls one hand from the book to cover his mouth. The yawn sends a tremor all the way down his body. Dean glances down at him with an incredulous expression.

“How are you tired? You slept, like, twelve hours, man.”

“You underestimate the power of good food and depression,” Lucifer chuckles, lowering his book to look up at Dean. He grins lazily at the hunter, bookmarking his page and setting the book aside in favor of folding his arms behind his head. “And anyway, I’m not looking to sleep. I should at least _try_ to make up some semblance of doing things like a normal person, right?”

“I guess.” Dean shrugs, running a hand through his hair again for good measure. Lucifer exhales contentedly, closing his eyes and leaning into Dean’s touch. He hadn’t realized until he arrived just how touch-starved he’d been, but now that he’s got these guys all he wants is to be close to someone.

Over the next couple of days he starts on getting the ingredients he’s going to need. The Winchesters are perfectly stocked, especially for one of the “simpler” spells. He’s careful when he takes them; he takes just a little bit more than he needs, for a just-in-case stash and to try to make sure that they won’t be able to figure out what it’s for, since a lot of the spells require a lot of the same ingredients – or, well, at least, the easier ones do. He’s still not sure if the boys can find the book, let alone read it, but he doesn’t want to take any chances.

He figures Saturday night will be good, after the others have gone to bed. The sound of the spell will probably wake them up, that much he knows, but hopefully by the time they get there they won’t be able to stop him. And maybe – just maybe – they won’t be too stunned to finish what he’s going to start.

So on Saturday, once Sam’s asleep, he slips out of bed and then waits to see if he’s disturbed Sam. The younger Winchester sighs and turns onto his back but doesn’t stir, and Lucifer holds his breath as he slips out of the room and tiptoes down to the library where he’s been keeping everything. He can only hope he won’t be disturbed too early. He fetches down the book from the shelf where he’s hidden it, trying to mentally tell it he’s going to use it – to try and stop its shouting in his ears – along with the bags of ingredients he’d been storing. Some of them were mundane; some of them had come from when the boys had raided.. well, actually, he’s not really sure where they’d gotten half this stuff. Not that it really matters, they’d had it and now he has it.

Still; the moon is rising and he’s losing time. He lays open the book, smoothing out the pages and carefully reading over it first. Too many incidents of people not reading ahead and it all going horribly, awfully wrong. It sounds easy enough, though; not a whole lot of room for mistakes. Put everything in, mix, and then.. well, the end would be hard. But he could do it. It was a small price for what he’d done.

The dry ingredients go in easily enough, crushed and mixed into a fine powder. The wet ingredients make it very thick, though, a little hard to stir. He can feel the wind pick up when he adds the last drops, even where it had been still and silent moments before. He’s doing it right, at least; he can remember this, vaguely, even though he’d been strung up and only half-conscious at the time.

And then the library door flies open.

Sam’s at the forefront, Dean and Cas behind him; but with each passing moment the wind’s getting stronger, and there’s no way they can stop it now, because damn is it happening. Grimacing, Lucifer pulls off a couple of his own feathers – one downy, one flight – and lets them sink into the bowl, absorbed just as easily as everything else by the mixture.

“Lucifer!” Sam’s shouting from across the room, moving towards him, although the wind is keeping him from moving like normal. Lucifer lifts his head, briefly; Sam’s desperate, not angry, but Dean and Cas just look.. sad. They understand. Sacrifice for the best. He lifts the knife, cuts a slit in his hand and lets it drip into the bowl, and the sludge turns dark red with it.

One more ingredient and that will be it.

“I’m sorry!” He calls out to the others; even Sam has stopped, pressing against a bookshelf and watching helplessly. “I am!”

And then he drives the knife into his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do not worry  
> the next chap will be up **tomorrow** at 5 PM EST


	14. Chapter 14

Lucifer hears Sam cry out, although the dizzying rush of pain kind of mutes it. Dean’s managed to get over to Sam and is holding the younger hunter back, although he’s clearly unhappy about it. Lucifer can’t focus on that, though, because _fuck_  if he doesn’t do this quickly he’s going to bleed out before he can finish.

He manages to split the wound further, gritting his teeth; he’s burning, on fire, and he knows he’s going straight back to Hell after this but he can’t find it in himself to care. God had said it was impossible; but thanks to Michael's sadism Lucifer had watched it happen before, knew it could be done. Finally the knife scrapes his grace and he hisses, trying to steady the shaking of his hands. It’s hard; the whole room is spinning and he’s extremely nauseous, and there’s darkness trying to close in around his vision, but he forces himself to focus.

He manages to cut out the piece he needs, although how he’s going to get it there he hasn’t quite thought about yet, because his legs really really want to give out right about now. He staggers, leaning against the table and sliding to his knees. The grace is sitting there on the edge of the knife, sparkling white and innocent, not liquid or solid or gas or anything else. His entire body is shaking; he’s probably going into shock, now that he considers it. Still, he manages to force his hand, tipping the grace from the knife into the bowl.

Oh, please Dad let it have hit the bowl, because he can’t really see anymore. With the resulting explosion, though, he knows he’s done it, otherwise it would have just sat there and done nothing and he would have failed. It sends him through the bookshelves behind him, to the wall, where he slides to the floor and stares at the ceiling, which is.. actually sort of fading in and out. His ears are ringing, too, now that he thinks about it. Then strong arms wrap around him, heave him upwards somewhat, and he groans in pain, clutching at the t-shirt of whoever the hell is touching him. Sam. It takes him a second but he recognizes the calluses on the Winchester’s hand.

“What did you _do_?” Sam hisses, although he’s crying – at least, Lucifer thinks he is. Sure does look like it. “Damn it, Lucifer!”

“Sorry, Sammy,” He manages, through the blood threatening to come up his throat. “Had to be done.”

“No, it didn’t.” Yeah, Sam’s definitely crying. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Lucifer makes to respond, but he coughs and blood spills off his lips, and all he can really do is hold Sam’s shirt. His wings give a helpless little flutter. The Morningstar is dying.

“Dumbass,” Sam says thickly. “You’re so _stupid_.”

“I know.” Lucifer manages a smile, one shaky hand reaching up for Sam’s face. “That’s kind of – “ He pauses to cough, his whole body shaking “ – my trademark, isn’t it?”

Sam just shakes his head, raising a hand and biting one finger to keep the overwhelming sobs from hitting just yet. Not until he’s gone.

“I loved you,” Lucifer says, although he’s practically panting with effort of trying not to bleed out all over the floor just yet. “Even before you existed I loved you, Sam, don’t forget that.”

“Stop,” Sam chokes out. “Lucifer, you can’t just..”

“You can’t stop this, Sam, you know that.” Lucifer offers another soft smile, but even the coughs shaking him are getting weaker. His head is spinning and Sam's face is blurring and everything hurts, but he can tell he's dying because the pain is beginning to fade to a dull ache. “At least – at least tell me it worked. Tell me I-” 

“Dean’s.. with him,” Sam whispers, running his fingers through Lucifer’s blond hair. “Oh, Luci..”

Lucifer lets his head tilt back, chuckling roughly. At least he’d done it. After a few moments of silence Sam shifts; somebody must have come over. Lucifer doesn’t feel like opening his eyes. He’s tired, so tired, and it would be so easy to just.. not. Then Sam’s passing him over and he forces himself to look, although everything is so blurry for the first few seconds he’s convinced it won’t matter.

And then he recognizes the warm touch of his Father.

He stiffens up, but only for a second before he doesn’t have the strength. Chuck’s handling him so gently, leaning against the wall and holding him and caressing him. And then, once it sinks in that it’s real, Lucifer can feel his own sobs building up. The tears start slow at first and then he’s actually crying, face buried against Chuck’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” He chokes, voice slurring. “Sorry, I’m sorry, Daddy..”

“Shh,” Chuck breathes against his neck, eyes closed, full of sorrow. “I know, Lucifer. It’s okay.”

“Didn’t mean to,” Lucifer’s whimpering, his entire body trembling violently. “Couldn’t help it, I’m sorry.”

“Shh..” Chuck rubs his back, crooning softly to try to soothe him. “I know, babydoll. I forgive you. It’s okay.. shh..”

Lucifer hiccups, coughs more blood, his fists curled into Chuck’s shirt. Chuck glances at Sam, who’s standing, covered in blood and staring blankly ahead; then to Dean and Cas, who have finally approached, supporting Gabriel between them. The younger Archangel is out of it still, only vaguely conscious.

“Go,” Chuck says softly to them, although his voice is serious. “Wait outside for me.”

Dean and Cas agree at once, mostly to get Gabriel somewhere more comfortable. Sam hesitates more, lingering nearby before reluctantly following the others.

* * *

They remain in the library with the doors shut and locked for two hours, three minutes, and forty-seven seconds. Sam keeps count. He’s a little angry that he wasn’t allowed to stay, but the pure light shining from under the door gives him the impression he would have been disintegrated if he had. He’s nuzzled against Dean, eyes shut; he’d been the closest to Lucifer of the three, and while Dean’s grieving too Sam needs all the comfort he can get.

Eventually the light fades and the door opens, along with a massive outpouring of smoke. For a moment it’s too dark to see the person that emerges, although Sam can only assume it’s Chuck. Fuck – that must mean Lucifer’s.. He chokes, grip tightening involuntarily on Dean’s jacket, and Dean rests a hand on his back.

And then the angel’s white wings spread, grace lighting up the whole room until the boys have to look away. It even attracts Cas back out of his room where he’d been watching over a sleeping Gabriel. Finally the light dies and Lucifer’s left standing, stretching, groaning in a mixed sort of pain. He’s only got on sweatpants and Chuck’s bloodied jacket, and there’s a rippling scar where he’d cut into himself.

“Well, that was.. unpleasant,” He huffs, folding his wings and moving away from the library. Chuck follows shortly thereafter, watching him carefully. Dean’s frozen, watching him; but Sam half-tackles him, dragging a grunt out of him.

“How dare you,” Sam manages before kissing him harshly. He stifles a laugh, leaning into Sam’s touch. Finally Sam pulls back, flushed and teary. “Damn it, Lucifer..”

“Mm,” Lucifer agrees, shoving his hands in the pockets of Chuck’s coat. “Just letting you know, don’t die. Very uncomfortable. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a..”

His legs give out and he collapses back into Chuck’s waiting arms, pale and yawning. Chuck lifts him bridal style easily, glancing at Sam, who points wordlessly to his room.

Once he’s settled in bed Chuck returns to the Winchesters, looking from Sam to Dean to Cas, who’s perched on the back of the couch with one ear cocked for Gabriel. The brothers glance at each other, a little nervously.

“Thank you,” Chuck says eventually, inclining his head. “For watching over my sons.”

“Um,” Is Sam’s intelligent response. Dean’s a little better put together.

“It’s no big deal,” The older Winchester says seriously. “We’re all family here, after all, which is hard to find nowadays.”

Chuck nods. “And Gabriel?”

“Asleep.” Cas finally speaks up, looking nervous about finally talking to his Father. “He’s drained, and will probably sleep for a while.”

Chuck nods again, exhaling and leaning on the wall. “I’ll have to go soon. Restoring Lucifer was.. ambitious of me.”

“I thought – I thought you said bringing back Gabriel was impossible,” Sam blurts out abruptly. “So how did Lucifer-?”

“Bringing back Gabriel was never _impossible_. I didn’t say that.” Chuck sighs, running a hand through his curly hair. “But to bring him back.. the magic, it’s extremely dangerous, and extremely temperamental. It’s lucky it worked in the first place. But Lucifer should have died, and even I can’t completely fix the damage he’s sustained. And Gabriel.. Gabriel won’t be up to full power, either. At best, the two of them will be only at a regular angel’s strength. At worst, they won’t have power at all. We’ll have to see.” Then he gives the three of them a short little smile, standing up straight. “But I trust you’ll look after my boys. They’ll certainly need the TLC after this.”

“Of course.” Dean nods. “That’s what we do.”

“Then I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you boys.”

And with a flash of light, God is gone.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the smuttiest smut to ever smut  
> (not really im fucking with you)  
> ((actually there is smut))

Once Cas had returned to checking on Gabriel with Dean, Sam heads down the hall to his room. Lucifer’s curled up in bed, and momentarily Sam thinks he might still be asleep, until he turns onto his back and gazes tiredly at Sam.

“Dad gone?” He murmurs; Sam nods wordlessly, moving over to the bed and crawling in with him. “Figures,” He adds in a sigh, turning back on to his side. “Every time he sees me he leaves pretty quick.”

“He seemed tired,” Sam murmurs against the back of his neck, arms wrapping around his waist. “Don’t be too hard on him, Luce.”

“Hm,” is Lucifer’s only response. He closes his eyes as Sam begins to rub one wing, fingers light and soothing against his feathers. Gently Sam kisses his neck, having discovered it to be a soft spot for the Archangel, and Lucifer exhales, leaning back against Sam’s chest.

“So how do you feel?” Sam asks softly, running one hand down his side. Lucifer hums.

“Better. I think Dad’s.. loosening up on my grace. I think I could use it if I tried.”

“Okay, but if you decide to use it let’s not blow anything up,” Sam laughs softly, and Lucifer rolls his eyes; at least until Sam adds, voice lower, huskier, “Except one of us?”

“Getting adventurous, are we?” Lucifer murmurs, tilting his head back against Sam’s shoulder. “You have yet to properly court me.. hm, what is it you say – at least take me on a date first?”

“Lucifer, you’ve literally been inside my head already. I’m not sure we can get much closer.” Sam smirks against his neck; then the expression drops and the hunter sighs. “Man, Luce.. you really scared me today,” He says softly. “I thought we’d lost you.”

“Technically, Sammy, you should have,” Lucifer reminds him gently, rolling over and letting one hand lay against Sam’s chest. “I wasn’t supposed to make it out. Dad’s just soft.”

“Maybe I should write him a thank-you note or something.” One of Sam’s hands runs down his arm, resting on his hip. “And _technically_ , you _did_ make it out. So clearly you were supposed to live.”

Lucifer just laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s how it works.. but if you say so.”

“Of course I do,” Sam says before he presses their lips together. Lucifer sighs contentedly, relaxing into Sam’s arms. It’s amazing, actually; Lucifer had never figured he’d be comfortable this close to another being, but Sam.. Sam had changed everything, right from the beginning.

He lets Sam ease Chuck’s jacket off, the hunter leaving soft little kisses on his neck, his jaw. He can’t help the shiver of cold that gives him goosebumps. Light callused fingers run over the scar, and when he flinches Sam’s arms are wrapping around him again, warm and stable. He buries his face in Sam’s shoulder, legs winding around the hunter’s waist, and for a few moments they sit there in silence.

He can feel Sam between his thighs – he always can – he knows Sam can’t help it. Being this close always manages to get Sam going. Not that Sam ever does anything about it – at least, not with Lucifer around. They’d talked boundaries a couple of times, and not once had Sam ever pushed it, tested their limits. Other than a few make-out sessions whenever they could steal them, they’d never had more clothes off than shirts.

“Sam,” Lucifer mumbles, shifting a little to tug at Sam’s shirt; skin-to-skin contact with any of the Winchesters has always made him feel better. Sam slips it off. “You love me. Right?”

“Of course,” Sam murmurs, kissing his forehead. “Why do you ask, Luce?”

Lucifer takes a deep breath, letting his fingers splay over Sam’s chest for a moment. “I’m just.. thinking.” Lightly his hand trails down, running over the smooth skin of Sam’s stomach, tracing the waist of Sam’s jeans. “It’s been a long day.”

“For you more than anybody, I think,” Sam jokes softly, nuzzling against Lucifer’s hair. Lucifer can feel him trembling. The Devil knows he’s teasing Sam, not even on purpose, but he’s shy, and extremely nervous about his intentions. Finally he lets his hand slip over the band, fingers running against Sam’s thigh and then-

Sam hisses an inhale, and for a split-second his grip on Lucifer tightens a little. Lucifer’s palming him lightly, the way Michael used to enjoy. Sam’s head tilts back momentarily, and Lucifer takes the moment of vulnerability to nip softly at the Winchester’s skin.

“Lucifer,” Sam breathes after a moment, although his hips are rolling in time to Lucifer’s hand. “I – are you – sure about this?”

“Not really.” Lucifer chuckles shakily. “But I – I trust you, Sam. Gotta start somewhere.”

“Mm, I guess..” Sam adjusts his position, biting his lip. Then, carefully, he catches Lucifer’s mouth, hands moving to Lucifer’s waist. “But, baby, you know all I want is to make you feel good, right?” He adds breathlessly, pulling back an inch or so. “I want you to be happy.”

“This is what I want,” Lucifer promises, blue gaze locking with Sam’s hazel one. “Swear.”

Sam groans softly, easing Lucifer’s hand away to grind against the Archangel. Lucifer whines softly, burying his face in Sam’s neck as the hunter rolls so Lucifer’s straddling him. They’d found that being on top eases Lucifer’s worries; and Lucifer smiles a little, pleased that Sam had remembered.

Sam’s fingers hover around the waistband of Lucifer’s pants, and it’s not until Lucifer nods that Sam eases them down and off. Lucifer sits up, although not to get Sam to stop. He’s trembling with mixed nerves and arousal, and he can feel Sam, tense with resisting the urge to thrust upwards. Carefully he pops the button on Sam’s jeans, then the zipper, adjusting his hips momentarily so he can pull them off.

Sam’s breath is soft and ragged, worrying his lower lip as he watches Lucifer’s movements. He’s desperately hard, Lucifer can feel it throbbing against one thigh, and Lucifer’s warmth isn’t helping any. Although, Sam thinks, he’s already cooling down, body-temperature wise; as his grace gets stronger, his temperature lowers.

Lucifer can feel Sam straining to keep still as he pulls the hunter’s cock out through the hole in the other’s boxers. Sam’s head drops back against the pillow as Lucifer begins to stroke, hips thrusting up involuntarily.

“How long’s it been since you got off?” Lucifer murmurs, letting his thumb run over the slit to collect the precum beading there. Sam groans, bucking upwards.

“No idea,” Sam manages, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. “ _Fuck_ , Lucifer..”

Slowly, hesitantly, Lucifer draws Sam’s boxers off, then lets their hips rest together, shivering. Sam’s watching him, breathing shaky, and the hunter’s fingers lightly caress up Lucifer’s thighs, feeling the Archangel’s skin. Finally Lucifer slips out of his own boxers, and he can tell Sam’s restraint is wearing on the thin side.

“Sam,” He mumbles; he’s shaking, his fingers tentatively finding Sam’s, and Sam sits up, letting his hands rest on Lucifer’s waist. Sam can feel his fear; it’s in every movement, every breath, filling his eyes. “Sam, I’m scared,” He whispers, his wings ruffling discontentedly. Sam croons.

“I know, baby. But I won’t hurt you, I promise. We’ll go slow. And you know we can stop at any time, no matter what.”

Lucifer nods nervously. Sam’s hands run up his back, twisting lightly into Lucifer’s white feathers. Lucifer shudders all the way down at the surge of pleasure from just the simple touch; he leans his head against Sam’s shoulder, pushing his hips into Sam’s and dragging a groan from the Winchester.

“You ready?” Sam murmurs against his neck, and he nods.

Keeping one steady arm around Lucifer’s waist Sam leans to the bedside table to grab the lube. He slicks two fingers and eases one into Lucifer; the Archangel hisses, fingers biting into Sam’s biceps, his wings fluffing up defensively. Once Lucifer’s relaxed Sam eases in the second, waiting for Lucifer’s tensed muscles to loosen before beginning to work the digits in and out. Nothing fancy – not yet, anyway, not until Lucifer’s more at ease with the situation.

“Sam,” Lucifer whimpers vaguely, going from holding Sam’s arms to clinging to his entire front, arms around his neck. “Sam, Sam, Sam..”

“Shh,” Sam breathes, scissoring gently, searching for Lucifer’s prostate. “Shh, Luce, it’s okay.. I’ve got you, baby..”

Lucifer’s hips jerk involuntarily when Sam finds it, a strangled sort of moan escaping the angel. Sam smirks a little to himself, rubbing it with the pads of both fingers until Lucifer’s shaking all over, rutting helplessly against Sam’s thigh and keening. It’s only then that Sam withdraws his fingers, quickly coating his cock and pressing up against Lucifer’s entrance.

“Ready?” Sam groans softly into Lucifer’s neck; the Archangel nods, hands lightly pressing at Sam’s shoulderblades. Slowly Sam begins to sink into him, drawing a throaty moan from the Devil.

“Sam,” Lucifer gasps sharply, gritting his teeth. “Oh, _fuck_.”

“That’s it,” Sam mumbles into the pale skin of Lucifer’s collarbone. “Good boy.. you feel so good, Luci..”

Lucifer keens, feathers fluffing up as Sam eases in deeper. He’s trying to stay relaxed, trying to make it easier, but fuck; the old memories are pressing in at the edges of his mind, threatening to spill over. But Sam is different and he _knows_ that, he’s well aware Sam would die before hurting him.

And yet.. it just feels so similar.

“Lucifer,” Sam murmurs, pausing halfway. “Baby, look at me. Are you okay?”

Lucifer leans back; he’s shaking, blue eyes dilated with fear. Sam caresses his cheek softly, keeping eye contact.

“Luci,” He soothes. “You’re okay, baby doll. I’ve got you. I’m gonna take care of you. Okay?”

Lucifer nods, taking a few deep breaths. Sam kisses him, slow and careful, both hands resting on Lucifer’s waist to keep him still. The Archangel can’t stop shivering; he leans into Sam’s touch, eyes closing as he tries to relax. Sam’s so gentle; and slowly Lucifer relaxes against him, at least enough for Sam to bottom out. Then they’re both still, quiet momentarily, save for Lucifer’s little gasping whines.

“Tell me when to move,” Sam says gently, and Lucifer nods.

“You – you can move,” Lucifer mumbles into the crook of Sam’s neck. Sam hums.

“You sure?”

Lucifer nods again, taking a deep breath. Carefully Sam’s hips pull back, just a little, before thrusting back into the Archangel, who whines vaguely at the feeling. After a few cautious movements Sam picks up a regular pace, slow and easy, feeling Lucifer’s muscles tense and relax periodically as the Devil adjusts.

“You okay?” Sam murmurs against Lucifer’s throat, biting softly at the Archangel’s collarbones. Lucifer nods shakily, hips shifting a little.

“Doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would,” Lucifer mumbles, burying his face in Sam’s shoulder. “Oh, _Sam_...”

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Sam says softly. “Taking me all in. So good, baby boy.”

Lucifer keens; he can’t help the way his hips roll down to meet Sam halfway, dragging a groan from the hunter. Sam’s hands slide down his body, feeling the Devil’s soft skin, the dips and ridges and curves. Lucifer’s trembling uncontrollably, pressing bruises into Sam’s arms, thighs tight around Sam’s waist.

“More,” He whispers, panting softly. “Sam, please, need you.”

Sam eases him down onto the bed, holding his hips up and beginning to thrust harder, faster. Lucifer’s back arches, his wings flaring, and Sam leans down to kiss the white feathers, drawing vibrating moans from the angel.

“So good,” Sam croons, reaching between them to lightly stroke Lucifer’s cock. “Taking me so good. You feel so good around me, sweetheart.”

“Love you, Sam,” Lucifer gasps. “Fuck, fuck, _Sam_ , I can’t–”

“Shh,” Sam murmurs. “I’ve got you, baby. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

Lucifer’s legs tighten around Sam’s waist. Sam runs his fingers through Lucifer’s feathers, kissing up his neck, leaving little bruises and upping the base. Lucifer tilts his head back, eyelids fluttering shut, and Sam kisses up his jaw and catches his mouth.

“Sam,” Lucifer moans, reaching up to tangle his hands in Sam’s hair. “Sam, harder, please – oh, _fuck_ , Sam – oh fuck, right there – oh God Sam!”

“That’s it,” Sam says softly. “Good boy, Luci. You feel so fucking good, baby. Gonna make me cum, babe,” He adds in a breathy whisper. “Fuck, Lucifer..”

Lucifer whines, pulling into his thrusts. His entire body’s shaking, and he can feel Sam ramming against his prostate with every movement. He can barely breathe it feels so good, and his whole body arches off the bed involuntarily. Sam’s name leaves his lips like a prayer as he breaks; cums against his stomach, nose scrunching, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Sam’s not far behind, groaning into Lucifer’s jaw as he releases inside, nails biting into Lucifer’s hips.

Momentarily they lay still, Sam nuzzled into Lucifer’s neck, Lucifer staring blankly at the ceiling. Finally Sam pulls out, sitting up; the movement draws a strangled whine from Lucifer, who sinks impossibly further into the mattress. Sam wraps both arms around Lucifer, pulls him up to the pillows and drags the cover over them. Lucifer’s still shaking, pressed close against Sam’s side and clinging to him like a lifeline.

It’s not until the tears hit Sam’s chest that he realizes Lucifer’s crying.

He rolls over, cradles Lucifer to his body and kisses the top of his head. He strokes through the Archangel’s blond hair, rubs his back, his wings. There’s no way to calm the poor guy’s attacks; only to wait them out.

Eventually Lucifer calms down, rubbing forcefully at his eyes and taking deep, shaky breaths. Sam doesn’t say anything, just leaves one arm around his waist, watching his face, and there’s so much _love_ and _adoration_ that Lucifer nearly bursts into tears again. He manages to get his emotions under control, though, swallowing hard and wiping away the remnants of the wetness from his face.

“Sorry,” He mumbles thickly. “I don’t usually, um, cry after sex.”

“Have you really had enough experience to know that?” Sam jokes softly, fingers running lightly against Lucifer’s cheek, down his jaw. Lucifer laughs shakily.

“I suppose not. I just..” His smile fades and he exhales, nuzzling against Sam’s shoulder. “Thank you.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short blugh im sorry

“I didn’t hurt you, right?” Sam checks for about the millionth time in the ten minutes since they’ve finished. Lucifer hums, drumming his fingers on Sam’s chest.

“I’m fine, Sam. Really. I may be fragile right now, but not that much.” Lucifer offers the hunter a soft smile – one of the rare few genuinely content ones. Sam laughs, bowing his head momentarily.

“Yeah, sorry,” The hunter says lightly. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Your first time back in bed–”

“Was perfect.” Lucifer interrupts the thought, propping himself up on one elbow; Sam mirrors him. “Honestly, Sam. That was more than I could have asked for.”

Sam softens, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Okay,” He says. “And, you know, actually.. we should shower.”

Lucifer groans vaguely, rolling onto his back and pulling a pillow over his face. “I don’t wanna,” He mumbles. Sam laughs.

“I know, I know. It sucks. But we gotta.” Sam swings his legs out of bed and stands, offering a hand to Lucifer – who’s finally peeked out from under the pillow, one blue eye staring pleadingly up at Sam. Sam doesn’t cave, though, and eventually Lucifer sighs, real dramatic, and takes the hunter’s hand, letting himself be pulled out of bed. He nearly collapses trying to hold his own weight, but after a pause of leaning on Sam he gets the shaking and soreness under control and at least manages to get himself to the bathroom.

“I hate showering,” Lucifer grumbles, five seconds before Sam turns on the water and he gets drenched in cold water. He’s pouting and it’s fucking adorable, and Sam kisses him, absently turning the water warmer. Lucifer sighs, tucking away his wings – back to whatever otherworldly plane they come from – he’d learned early on that wet feathers are the absolute worst possible thing.

“I know you do,” Sam chides. “But it’s a necessary evil of all humanity. And for another day or two that includes you.”

“Ughhh, don’t remind me.” Lucifer rolls his eyes, although he does relax a little when Sam begins to massage shampoo into his scalp. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you guys, but being human _sucks_.”

“You do have a point. We are sort of high maintenance, aren’t we?”

“If I were God and I had to take care of you I’d run off too,” Lucifer jokes lightly, tilting his head back to look at Sam. “You have to eat and drink and sleep, and the way you get rid of waste – it’s awful. Also – jeez, it’s cold.” Lucifer leans forward, turning the knob further towards warm. Sam frowns a little.

“Really?”

Lucifer nods, shrugging. “I _am_ always cold.”

Sam just shrugs, too, and pulls the showerhead off the wall and washing the shampoo out of Lucifer’s hair. This also manages to plaster Lucifer’s hair to his face, and he frowns at Sam, attempting to unstick it from his skin.

Lucifer returns the favor, eventually – specifically when Sam is kneeled to clean his thighs. Sam hums when Lucifer’s running his fingers through the hunter’s hair, and when Sam stands back up and has to push his wet hair out of his eyes, Lucifer’s grinning impishly. Sam just shoves him a little and grins, rolling his eyes.

Eventually they manage to stop dicking around long enough to actually get clean and get out. Almost as soon as the air reaches him Lucifer’s shivering, and he doesn’t protest when Sam wraps a towel firmly around him and begins to dry off his hair. Once Sam’s wrapped a towel around his own waist he slides an arm around the angel and leads him out of the bathroom, pressing a light kiss to his temple. Then the hunter’s phone buzzes on the nightstand, and he parts from Lucifer’s side to check.

“Gabriel’s awake,” He says, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. “Wants to talk to me, apparently. Only me. Do you mind if I..?”

“Go ahead,” Lucifer says, managing not to butcher it with his shivering; he’s not so lucky with, “I’m g-gonna take a n-n-nap.”

“Hm,” Is all Sam says. The hunter moves over, kisses him lightly, then retrieves a pair of sweatpants and tugs them on. Then he leaves, although he can’t help but to cast a glance back at Lucifer, who’s rummaging through the dresser for something to wear.

Lucifer pulls out an old pair of Sam’s pants and boxers, and he’s trying to decide on a sweater when a rapping on the door makes him jump. He turns; Dean’s leaning in the doorway, smirking a little. The hunter folds his arms, quirking an eyebrow.

“Sorry, kitten. Didn’t mean to scare you. Man,” He adds as an afterthought, watching Lucifer pull out one of Sam’s dark fluffy sweaters, “We really need to get you out clothes shopping.” Dean drops his arms and enters the room, settling on the bed. Lucifer can’t help being shy, and even though Dean just grins and covers his face Lucifer’s hesitant about changing. Still – he gets all his clothes on and then crawls onto the bed next to Dean.

“So I didn’t know you had tattoos,” Dean remarks casually, as Lucifer leans into his side, nuzzling against his neck. Lucifer hums.

“Nick had them before, I guess. I can see the appeal in decorating your body forever. ‘s long as they’re pretty.”

Dean chuckles softly, rolling onto his side. “Wings?” He murmurs, lowering his lips to brush Lucifer’s jaw. Lucifer lets them unfurl into the physical plane, and Dean runs his fingers through the angel’s feathers to elicit a throaty purr from Lucifer.

“You guys’ wings are always so soft,” Dean comments, and Lucifer nods.

“It’s called good wing care. It’s like hair, nobody likes it when it’s dirty.”

Dean laughs, sliding his fingers up through the feathers again. “Well. I’m sure we all appreciate it.”

For a  few moments they’re silent, save soft little breaths and Lucifer’s purring. Then, “Dean,” Lucifer mumbles, burying his face against Dean’s chest, and Dean hums to show he’s heard. “Did you mean it, that we can go out?”

“What, going a little stir crazy?” Dean chuckles softly, and Lucifer nods. “Mm, maybe we could go tomorrow, if you’ll feel up to it. Hey – why don’t we get something to eat?”

Lucifer glances up, somewhere between smiling and frowning. “It’s, like, 3 AM.”

“And?” Dean grins. “There’s no time for a midnight snack like not-midnight.”

Lucifer just rolls his eyes and sits up, nudging Dean softly. “Alright, fine. I could eat. But you gotta make it.”

“Deal.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word vomits  
> sorry this is late yall im lazy as hell and also sorta obsessed with twd rn :,) so thats a thing i guess

Gabriel looks like hell.

Given that they’ve been there, Sam can only equate him to that. He’s deadly pale, and although he’s sitting up against the bedframe he’s shaking. He waves Cas off when he catches sight of Sam, though, and Cas gives Sam a meaningful glance before going to find Dean – probably. The Archangel’s hazel eyes are dark and serious as he scans a quick once-over of Sam.

“What happened?” He asks as Sam perches on the edge of the bed. Sam hesitates momentarily.

“What do you remember?”

“I.. I went to confront Lucifer. I was going to have to kill him, or die trying. He stabbed me, and I.. died, I guess?”

“Yeah, um.. that was, that was five years ago.” Sam pauses to let Gabriel digest this information; just for a moment, before continuing, “We took your advice on the rings and slammed the Devil back in his box, at least? Stopped the Apocalypse?”

“That’s.. good?” Gabriel frowns, shifting a little and wincing. “So I guess big bro Michael recalled all the good little angels after that?”

“Not exactly.” Sam rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “He sort of, um, got put in the Cage, too.”

Gabriel stares at him for a moment, and then a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You’re joking,” He says, but when Sam just looks away the smile fades and he takes on an incredulous look. “You _what_?”

“I was – just going to jump in the Cage with Lucifer, and then Michael grabbed hold and we both fell in.” Sam shrugs a little. “He’s probably not very happy, but seeing as the Cage is locked..”

“I. I guess he had it coming? Michael’s always been hellbent on revenge, just ‘cause that’s what Dad ordered. And now he can get revenge forever? I dunno. So.. Apocalypse averted. What’ve you boys been doing since then?”

“That’s.. sort of a long story. Um.. well, we destroyed Eve, after she started creating monsters.. Dean ended up with the Mark of Cain and sort of turned into a demon for a little bit.. and then we accidentally set God’s sister free, I didn’t even know he had a sister–”

“You freed the Darkness?” Gabriel leans forward, brows furrowing. “Man, I die and you boys go to shit.”

“Well, she turned out okay.. I mean, she ended up not destroying everything, which is good. I mean, the trade-off was Lucifer almost wrecked everything, but, you know, the lesser of two evils.”

“I thought you said Lucifer was in the Cage.”

“He was, but, we sort of, enlisted his help to defeat Amara – er, the Darkness. He was, you know, willing enough to help, as long as God apologized, which happened, but Amara overpowered him. Once everything was settled with her we put him away again.”

“And he just.. went. Just like that? Because that doesn’t sound like Lucifer.”

“Well, no. We sort of had to exorcise him, or.. whatever the angel equivalent is.”

“And now?”

“Now? Oh, well, uh..”

Then there’s a crash that makes Sam wince, followed by Lucifer’s indignant “Dean!” Sam presses his lips together, watching Gabriel’s face go through a few different emotions – hilarity, to realization, to shock, to horror.

“You – he’s _here_?”

“Not because we wanted it!” Sam says, raising his hands. “Cas got a – a mission from God, or whatever. We’re supposed to fix Lucifer or.. something.”

“Wow, that’s _really_ specific,” Gabriel says sarcastically, arms folded. “‘Or something’, what the f–”

“Sam,” Lucifer says from the hallway; he pokes his head in and catches Gabriel’s eye, and seems to go through a moment of uncharacteristic shyness. Then he catches himself and clears his throat, keeping his gaze fixed on Sam. “Dean broke a glass and we can’t find the broom. Where did you put it?”

“I haven’t touched it.” Sam frowns, inclining his head. “Did you check downstairs? Maybe it got misplaced.”

“Yeah, we did. Well damn – okay, we’ll figure something out.”

Then Lucifer ducks out again. Sam shoots a glance at Gabriel, who’s frowning seriously.

“That’s not Lucifer,” Gabriel says finally. “Maybe at one point but he hasn’t been that way in a long time. Did he lose his memory or something?”

“I guess humanity does that,” Sam suggests, shrugging. “You spend a certain amount of time being human and you gain a little respect for life.”

“I.. feel like I’ve missed something. Start over.”

So Sam recounts from the beginning everything that had happened with Lucifer – although he does omit the part about the sex. Gabriel seems to be taking it well, watching Sam intently. When Sam finishes Gabriel takes a moment to consider this story, absently tugging one wing around himself and preening – the same way Lucifer does when he gets distracted.

“Are you sure we can trust him?” Gabriel asks finally. He’s got no ill-will against Lucifer, certainly; and Sam can’t blame him for being skittish. Sam shrugs.

“I mean.. God’s pretty much given us the okay. He’s been super to have around. I can’t really argue with that, you know?” Sam says lightly; and then, when Gabriel still looks unconvinced, he adds, “I know that you two didn’t end on, er.. good terms.. but at least give him a chance. He’s different.”

Gabriel sighs, fidgeting his fingers. Finally he says, “Okay. I’ll give it a shot. Just don’t expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows right off the bat. I’ve seen him do some awful things, even before he murdered me.”

“We can work with that,” Sam agrees. “Okay, uh.. I’ll let you rest. Just shout if you need anything.”

“Yes, go,” Gabriel huffs, although an easy grin spreads across his face as he settles down under the sheets. “I need my beauty sleep. Even though I shouldn’t sleep? Whatever.”

Sam laughs softly, standing up. He crosses the room back to the door and flips the switch, slipping out of the bedroom and to the living room. Lucifer’s curled up on the couch, his head in Dean’s lap, fast asleep; Sam softens a little, taking up a seat in one of the cushy recliners and leaning it all the way back.

“If you don’t mind, I’m gonna take him out to get some clothes of his own tomorrow,” Dean says, inclining his head towards Sam, who shrugs. “Cute as he is in ours, I think it might feel a little more like home if he had stuff to call his own.”

“Sounds fair to me.” Sam kicks back, folding his hands on his stomach. A yawn escapes him, and he leans his head back. “Where’s Cas?” He adds, letting his eyes slip shut.

“Went to change, I think. Speaking of angels wearing our clothes, I guess. You know, he’s funny, he doesn’t need to sleep and yet he loves doing it.”

“What’s not to like about sleeping?” Sam remarks lightly. “I can’t blame the guy.”

“Fair enough. Of course.. sounds like he’s not the only one who needs a nap.” Dean chuckles softly. “Get some sleep, Sammy.”

“If you say so,” Sam mumbles, shifting a little bit. He’s just bordering on sleep when a warm body crawls up against his side – Cas. He rolls over, curls around the angel, who sighs contentedly and relaxes into his arms. Cas must have showered; he smells nice, sort of like Dean’s shampoo.

“G’night, Sam,” Cas murmurs, shifting a little bit to get comfortable in the curve of Sam’s body.

“Good night, Cas.”


End file.
